


The Romance of Voltron, a farce in five acts

by TroglodyteMonologue



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Episode: s04e04 The Voltron Show, Romance, Uncle Coran causing mayhem, the Paladins being dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26165377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TroglodyteMonologue/pseuds/TroglodyteMonologue
Summary: “Look guys, I’m not gonna consummate anything with anyone,” Keith said, and regretted the words the moment they left his lips.“Not even Shiro?” Coran asked, and all eyes turned to Keith.They all knew.It was like a stamp on his forehead. Like a big red ‘S’ stitched into his uniform. Like a neon billboard sign hovering above his head that flashed, in big shining letters:I (heart) Takashi Shirogane.Bastards, the lot of them.Keith begrudgingly agrees to a cameo for the Coalition’s Voltron Show. As Shiro’s love interest.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 280
Kudos: 407





	1. Act 1: Cast of Characters

_Urgent_ , Coran said.

Keith expected a true emergency. Like a planet on the brink of destruction, or a Galra invasion on a massive scale, or one of his teammates bedridden and clinging to life.

He did not expect to be dragged into one Coran’s godforsaken pageants. 

Everything on Tanaleria was red, pink, and white. The buildings, the ships, the clothes, the people; it looked like Valentine’s Day threw up on the entire planet. Objectively, it was beautiful. The Tanalerians had impeccable taste and used their creative skills to erect stunning glass structures and elaborate gardens teeming with flowers, sparkling fountains, and golden statues. The air was thick with the scent of alien blossoms, herbs, and a spice Keith couldn’t quite place. But what really got Keith was the way the Tanalerians behaved.

At first, he thought they were all on drugs. It certainly seemed like it. They existed in a haze, talked slow and languidly, and giggled far too easily at everything Keith said. Even the mechanics at the docking bay seemed to... _flirt_ with him. They were humanoid in form with rosy pink skin and amber colored eyes, and Keith had difficulty distinguishing male from female because of the planet’s baseline beauty standards. The fact that they were bipedal made it less weird but, as a general rule, Keith hated any interactions with strangers besides fighting with them. 

When he finally made it out into the public sector, Keith noticed the Tanalerians always walked in pairs. No less than four of them tried to couple up with Keith as he strode along a perfectly manicured sidewalk. He thought they were just being friendly, recognizing that he was a visiting stranger. But when all of them tried to hold his hand or placed their searing hot palms against the small of his back, Keith had to bat them off and cross the street to avoid getting molested. After the fourth incident, he refused to make eye contact with anyone he came across.

Keith made the mistake of taking a shortcut through one of the gardens to avoid one particularly doe-eyed citizen. He thought, all things considered, it would be a nice detour. High, dense hedges lined alcoves with big bushes of flowers, benches, blank marble platforms, erotic statues — Keith’s error dawned on him far too late. 

The Tanalerians weren’t just affectionate, they were downright salacious. It appeared that very few people actually _strolled_ in the garden. Most were occupied with more _vigorous_ activities and hadn’t a care for others stumbling upon their semi-private alcoves. Keith had to place his hands on the sides of his face like blinders as he stormed through the main pathway, ears as red as cherries.

Keith got flustered, lost, and refused to ask any Tanalerian for directions for fear they would make advances at him. He cut through a hedge with his Marmoran blade and escaped the passion-fueled garden relatively intact. They would just have to bill the Coalition for the damage.

When he arrived at the intergalactic embassy, Keith was already on edge and eyed every Tanalerian with a generous amount of suspicion. He prepared himself for just about anything as he was led to a large recreation room. Big open windows, high ceilings, and plush red carpets laid out before him; very grand and opulent in design compared to other planets’ accommodations.

The paladins were scattered around the naturally lit space, relaxing on gilded furniture, and chatting idly with each other about Castle chores. The sight washed a wave of relief over Keith.

Hunk was the first to say his name, but they all lit up at the sight of him. Shiro was a particularly nice sight for sore eyes. He sat at the head of a long, polished table, head held high and glowing as usual, and immediately stood when he saw Keith. Almost too enthusiastically. But Keith figured that was his own hopeful imagination.

The team exchanged ‘hellos’ and hugs (a kind of affection Keith was starting to get used to) and Keith felt brought back into the fold. The Blades were a tight knit group, but they hardly satisfied any need for familial love and affection.

But when Coran handed him a datapad with what looked like a script, Keith thought he might actually lose it. 

“ _The Romance of Voltron_?” Keith read from the screen with an immediate air of disapproval. “What is this, Coran?”

Allura took a step forward. “Don’t be angry, Keith. But we really need your help on this particular performance,” she said, her hands clasped in front of her — a go-to diplomatic stance. Keith knew a headache was coming. He felt it. 

The young Blade sighed heavily, tossed the tablet on a nearby table, and crossed his arms to get his irritated point across. “You’ve got all the paladins to pilot and do all your weird fight choreography. What could you possibly need me for?”

“We need you to play a very important supporting role,” Coran said with a point of his finger.

“Okay…” Keith noticed his team fell suspiciously quiet and he became even more apprehensive to whatever they had planned for him.

“You see, the Tanalerians have very particular tastes when it comes to entertainment. So we had to make some adjustments to our usual routine and add a little zest to the dish,” Coran schmoozed with a shoulder shimmy. Sometimes, it took the Altean man forever to get to the point and after the morning Keith had, he was not in the mood.

“So what do you want me to do? Juggle? Do a backflip? What?”

Coran held up his hands and smiled like Keith was supposed to be excited by the news. “We want you to play the romantic interest in our new plotline!”

_What. The quiznak._

If crickets lived in the room, they would have chirped very loudly in the silence that passed. Although, Lance did linger somewhere behind Keith and tried to hold in his laughter. The spitting, choking sound made up for the lack of crickets. 

Keith’s expression was a hard deadpan when he answered, “Absolutely not.”

“Don’t be such a sourpuss, Keith. You’ll make a great damsel in distress,” Lance teased, just barely holding it together. Pidge and Hunk also snickered quietly at his expense and not even the sourest look Keith could manage stopped them from giggling behind their hands.

Shiro stepped forward, a sobering and mature figure in comparison to his other teammates. “Keith, the Tanalerians are a very important ally in the fight against Zarkon. They are the best medics and healers across all the nearest quadrants. We need them on our side.”

Keith felt it coming on: his inability to say ‘no’ to Shiro’s reason and strong, grey eyes.

“Yes, the plants and flowers they cultivate here create some of the known universe’s most powerful antidotes,” Allura said, to sweeten the pot. “It’s really quite remarkable.”

“Problem is, they won’t go for the usual flash and bang show,” Pidge said from where she sat cross legged on a velvet cushioned chair. “As you can tell, they kind of beat to a different drum here.”

Hunk stood nearby Pidge, munching on some pink snacks from a white marbled bowl. “Yeah. You know, I was beginning to wonder about all the statues of people kissing,” he said and shrugged, “Don’t get me wrong, they’re nice statues and all. But there’s just… _a lot_ of people mackin’ on each other around here.” Keith had a feeling Hunk didn’t know the half of it.

As if responding to a cue, Coran butted in and cried, “The Tanalerians love passion! Heartache! Tales of doomed lovers with sensuality and magnetism!” Keith had to take a step back from the force of his performance. The Altean man’s histrionics demanded space. 

Coran then calmed suddenly, like he was prone to do, and twisted the tip of his mustache between two gloved fingers. “I wanted to do a reenactment of Altea’s most famous romantic ballad, _The Tale of Guntara and Veeran_. But Allura said the production would be too ambitious for our budget.”

Allura pressed her mouth into a thin, annoyed line, “I also said it was long. And tragic. And had absolutely nothing to do with Voltron,” she said.

“The Tale of Guntara and _who_ now?” Lance asked.

“Veeran!” Coran exclaimed. He shuffled back and forth as if fencing and swung his arm in narrow circles, wielding an invisible rapier. “A swashbuckling, romantic adventure about rebel space pirate Guntara and her royal lover Veeran! They meet, unknowing of each other's identities, in the heat of battle! At the clashing of their blades, they fall in love at first sight and defy the laws of their factions to be together!”

Keith felt the headache building in the back of his skull.

Allura sighed, “Yes, and then both Guntara and Princess Veeran perish tragically when both factions fire on their ship, believing one is the captive of the other.”

Coran dramatically sprawled his arm across his forehead like a fainting lady. “And thus their deaths usher in an era of peace. _It’s beautiful_ ,” he whispered. 

Keith rubbed his palms over his face, heels digging into his eye sockets, and groaned. The Blades were suddenly much more appealing.

Pidge propped her elbow up on the nearby table and leaned her head in her fist. “That sounds a lot like Romeo and Juliet. Except a lot more exciting.”

“Romeo and Juliet?” Coran asked, eyes lighting up.

Lance waved his hand. “Same story, but instead of a ship exploding, there’s poison and a lot of mixed up letters and bad communication.”

The red haired Altean man exploded with fervor again. “See, that’s the kind of story the Tanalerians want to see! Tales of consummate love and star-crossed sweethearts!” 

Keith broke in, ready to stop the silly conversation and put an end to the issue for good. “Look guys, I’m not gonna consummate anything with anyone,” he said, and regretted the words the moment they left his lips.

“Not even Shiro?” Coran asked.

All eyes turned to Keith.

They all knew.

It was like a stamp on his forehead. Like a big red ‘S’ stitched into his uniform. Like a neon billboard sign hovering above his head that flashed, in big shining letters: _I (heart) Takashi Shirogane_.

The blessing and the curse was that it was obvious to everyone but Shiro. While all Keith’s teammates, including Coran, watched the color drain from Keith’s face with varying levels of awareness and cheek, Shiro appeared completely unaffected. He looked at Keith with an open, hopeful expression. The Black Paladin was absolutely oblivious to the undertone and double entendre of Coran’s question; blind to all the signs and the desperate little hints Keith had been throwing at him for years.

But everyone else picked up on them. They knew _exactly_ what they had done as they stuck Keith between a rock and a, well, _Shiro_.

Bastards, the lot of them.

“It’s a strange request, we know,” Shiro offered, as if it helped. The older man had no idea what complicated, horrified thoughts churned inside Keith as he spoke. 

“It really made sense for Shiro to be the romantic lead. He’s the leader and our most popular paladin,” Coran chimes in, “But we couldn’t very well pair him up with any of the other paladins. That would make things awkward!” 

Coran’s eyes sparkled and he secretly grinned behind his stupid mustache, Keith just knew it. “So we had to make a new character! You’ll like him. He’s a very capable warrior prince. Very dynamic and multi-dimensional.”

Keith would have rather played a tree.

“I was the one that suggested you,” Shiro admitted. 

_Hell in a handbasket._ Keith’s stunted emotional capacity couldn’t take much more. 

The older man shrugged, “I thought, if anyone would feel comfortable doing this with me, it’d be you. Because we’re close. We’ve been friends for so long, after all.”

_Fuck._

Allura and Hunk both visibly winced, externally reflecting the agony Keith felt internally. But Shiro was just as oblivious to the knife he just slipped between Keith’s ribs as he was to the young Blade’s desperate affection.

Instead of getting sad and mopey about it, Keith got angry and defensive. After all, they were his default emotions. He pulled his arms closer against his body and insisted, “I am not gonna do some sort of freaky live porno. Doesn’t matter who it’s with.”

The tone of the room turned on its head. The whole team stared at Keith in a new way, somewhere between flabbergasted and embarrassed.

“Porn — ?” Allura stuttered out, “What are you talking about?”

Keith, quickly realizing his faux pas, backtracked. He stammered a bit before he was able to spit out, “I—I’ve been through the gardens here, Allura, I’ve seen what these people are _into_. I’m not interested.”

The Altean princess raised her delicate fingers to cover her mouth, which slowly curved into a grin. “You went into one of the gardens?” 

Up until that point, Keith had some control. But he felt embarrassed and attacked from all sides — and Shiro wouldn’t stop _staring_ at him — so his face quickly turned a deep shade of red and he gesticulated wildly with his hands. “On accident!” he exclaimed.

Allura looked so _pleased_.

Hunk held his snack bowl close to his chest and asked, “What’s wrong with the gardens? Are they full of monsters? Oh god, and I thought this planet was so nice!”

Allura shook her head and very gingerly took a seat next to a small version of the kissing statues Hunk called attention to earlier. “No, the gardens are...how do I put this gently? Often used for very... _intimate engagements_? That’s a good way of describing it, wouldn’t you say, Keith?” she asked, crossing her legs and folding her hands.

The whole team looked from her to Keith with wide eyes.

Keith’s face could have melted off, he felt so hot. The young Blade threw his hands in the air. “Well, they should put a warning sign up or something! I didn’t know what I was walking into!”

To make matters worse, it was Shiro that asked, “I mean, did you... see anything, Keith?” Like some older brother concerned for their younger sibling’s innocence. 

“Yeah, anything spicy?” Lance asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Pidge adjusted her glasses. “Anything particularly scientific?”

Hunk recoiled, “Gross. You’re all gross.”

Keith wanted to crawl under the rug and hide for a few deca-phoebs.

Coran held up his palms. “Now, now. I know you are all adolescents with raging hormones. I don’t know what the usual age is for a human’s first acts of coitus, but we Alteans all developed and matured at different rates. Why, I remember when I — ”

Outrage, disgust, and horror erupted in the room. Hunk put his hands over his ears and started singing. Allura’s pointed ears turned beet red and she began a lecture about appropriate, diplomatic behavior. Lance covered his eyes with his hands, as if that would do anything. Pidge’s eyes grew as wide as her lenses and she cringed with a choking, disgusted sound. It was a loud, chaotic scene and Coran stood in the middle of it all, looking smug as could be.

Again, Shiro was the one to step forward and break through the madness. Though, even Shiro was not entirely unaffected. His cheeks flushed a nice, rosy shade of pink and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Keith couldn’t remember the last time he saw Shiro blush.

“Alright guys, keep it together,” he chided. “Remember we’re in a civic building on a diplomatic assignment. We can all behave like adults.”

Lance vehemently shook his head, peeking through his fingers. “I’m too distracted now,” he said, “There’s a garden right outside that window where people are doing coitus or whatever.”

Hunk’s face twisted in disgust. “ _Ew_ , why would you say that word again?”

Having already moved on from the incident, Coran scrolled through his datapad, speed reading his script with utmost focus. “I can assure you all that there is nothing pornographic in this show whatosever,” he announced, “Just a little sweet romance. Enough to _wet the appetite_ , as they say.”

Allura sighed, already exhausted with her human companion’s energies, “We really could use your help, Keith. In this case, it is very important to appeal to this planet’s culture.” 

For Keith, it was a losing battle from that point on. He could pout and cross his arms as tight as he wanted, but he knew his team would chip away at his resolve like they always did.

“Even though you’re with the Blades now, you’re also still a part of this team,” Pidge said with a smile.

Shiro stepped into his space and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder, like he always did. The young warrior untensed on cue. Shiro’s hand felt warmer than usual. “I’d like you to do this with us. I’d feel more comfortable with you as a scene partner than some Tanalerian stranger,” he said.

The thought of anyone putting their hands on Shiro, especially some overzealous sex-obsessed alien, struck a jealous chord with Keith. Make-believe or not, he couldn’t stand the thought. What if they pulled the same tricks on Shiro that they did on him? What if he fell for their wiles? What if Shiro willingly went into a garden with one of them because he was a consenting adult with an itch to scratch?

Keith’s imagination worked him into a quiet fury, with a little bit of murder on his mind. And that was not good for diplomacy.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice cut through. Everyone was looking at him, but it was Shiro’s eyes that helped him refocus.

“I’ll do it,” Keith decided, “But don’t expect me to sign any autographs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very different style and genre than what I've done before, but I felt straight up INSPIRED to write it! It was just too fun of an idea to keep in my noggin : DDD


	2. Act 2: Rehearsal

Neither Keith nor Shiro had ever participated in the Garrison’s performing arts programs. It had never crossed their minds when they were so busy with mixed martial arts training, engineering classes, and flight hours. But Keith wished he had at least seen a play once in his life because he didn’t know what to do with his _goddamn hands_. 

What on earth did actors _do with their hands?_

One held his datapad, fingers permanently frozen to the tablet. But the other had a mind of its own. The rogue hand would sometimes rest against his hip, sometimes his opposite arm, and sometimes Keith would do a stilted, artificial gesture at Coran’s recommendation. But most of the time, his fingers nervously fidgeted and grasped at the pant leg of his Marmoran suit. 

Keith’s tense stage fright was spurred by an audience of only five. And Shiro. Mostly Shiro. He decided not to imagine what an audience of several hundred would feel like. Because to back out after he already agreed would make him look like a coward.

And Keith refused to be a chicken in front of Shiro.

Having already rehearsed their parts, most of the team sat near the wall (furthest from the windows leading to the embassy’s garden) as stand-in audience members. Keith and Shiro stood up in front of them, an awkwardly far distance from each other and did their very best to never make eye contact. They delivered their lines faithfully, with varying levels of intonation and commitment, but there was really no denying it:

Shiro and Keith were phenomenally bad actors.

At first, the team had revelled in Keith’s torture. They watched with fiendish eyes as Keith locked up and stumbled, delighting in his obvious misery. But thirty minutes into Shiro and Keith’s one-on-one rehearsal, none of them looked particularly engaged or as thrilled as before. Hunk’s head drooped and nodded as he tried to stay awake. Pidge’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, distracting Keith.

Finally, they made it to the last page.

“‘I guess this is goodbye, Prince Veeran’,” Shiro said, eyes glued to the datapad in his hand. 

Keith shuffled his feet and nodded, stiffly, “‘Yes. Thank you for everything you have done for my’ — oh wait, that was my last line. Hold on,” he said and tapped his finger to scroll lower. Coran grumbled from where he stood off to the side, watching Keith and Shiro with hawk-like intensity.

“Okay, uh — ‘Do you have to go?’” Keith read.

“‘The universe needs Voltron,” Shiro recited. He raised his arm like Coran had directed him to do, robotically motioning to where the Black Lion was supposed to be sitting on stage. “‘My team and I still have a lot of work to do.’”

Keith heard Hunk snoring and looked just in time to watch Allura elbow him awake. It took him a few seconds to recover and Coran was already prompting his line, “‘Will I ever — ”

“‘Will I ever see you again, Shiro?’” Keith’s irritation with Coran made the line come out less than affectionate.

Shiro shrugged, exaggerated and unnatural. “‘It may be a long time. But you are part of the Coalition now, our fight is your fight’,” he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw Coran mouth ‘our fight is your fight’ at the same time and nod to himself. Like it was a mantra, or a new slogan. Keith wouldn’t be surprised if ‘Our Fight is Your Fight’ was being printed on posters at that very moment.

Keith licked his lips and buckled down for a particularly long stretch of dialogue. He tried to bulldoze through it as quickly as possible. 

“‘I know that I am only one person, but you made me feel like so much more. I can’t thank you enough for what you have done. I know you must go — um — but I will continue the work here and rid my planet of the Galra Empire. I will come find you. When this is all over and the universe is at peace, I will find you and we can be to— ‘“ 

_Sweet Kaltenecker._

Keith stopped short, dropped his shoulders, and levelled Coran with a look. “Is this really necessary? It seems like a lot,” he argued, trying to will the blood away from his face. The speech was trite and it made him feel sleazy and ridiculous. But, above all, delivering a monologue about _getting together_ with Shiro was very, very difficult for Keith.

“Of course it’s necessary!” Coran exclaimed with a gesture to the ceiling and hurried to stand between the two. Keith was secretly glad for the physical barrier between him and Shiro. Because he was sweating like a sinner in church. Shiro remained emphatically unchanged.

Coran waved his arms wildly. “We need to feel the passion! The misfortune! The audience needs that final, arousing hope that Shiro and Prince Veeran will be together at the end of the war!”

Pidge noticeably snorted at the word ‘arousing’.

“But Veeran isn’t _real_ ,” Keith protested, “We — I mean _they_ — aren’t going to be _together_ when Zarkon’s gone. Isn’t that instilling false hope?”

In his periphery, Keith saw Shiro turn his way. He prayed Shiro hadn’t heard his slip.

“Ah, but it’s not about it being _real_ , my young inexperienced Keith,” Coran chided with a wag of his finger. Keith flushed and scoffed at being called ‘inexperienced’, but didn’t have a comeback for it. 

“It’s about the mystique and the yearning. Leaving the audience on the edge of their seat, wondering: will they or won’t they?” Coran said, “It’s about the _fantasy_.”

Keith knew about fantasy. He fantasized about Shiro six hundred ways from Sunday. He also fantasized about snapping the data pad in half, running back to his pod, and escaping to the safe vacuum of space where no one would tell him how to stand or how to move his arms. And then Shiro would fly after him, heartily agree that Coran’s play was stupid, take him for gelato, and suggest they spar shirtless to blow off steam.

 _That_ was a fantasy.

Shiro’s voice broke Keith out of that beautiful headspace.

“I’m kind of with Keith on this one, this dialogue feels...well, not very realistic,” Shiro admitted, clearly trying to pad his words for Coran’s sake.

But the Altean man got his hackles raised all the same. He crossed his arms and drew up to his full height. “You think you can write something better?” he challenged.

Shiro retreated quickly, holding up his free hand in defense. “No, no that’s not what I mean — “

From another part of the room, Lance’s dramatic sigh came through loud and clear. He sat backwards in one of the gilded chairs, straddling the cushion and resting his pointed chin on top of the backing. He looked positively bored out of his skull, if not a little frustrated. “I don’t think the writing is the problem here,” he said.

It was Keith’s turn to get his hackles raised. “Then what is?”

Lance sat up. “Let me put it this way: watching you two act is like being forced to eat an entire box of unsalted crackers. Both painful and deeply unsatisfying.”

Keith suddenly had another fantasy: clobbering Lance over the head with the nearest and heaviest kissing statue he could get his hands on.

Shiro obviously read the look on Keith’s face and responded with grace before the young Blade could answer with his own fury. “Productive criticism only, Lance. Please,” Shiro urged.

The Blue Paladin effectively appointed himself assistant director when he stood up and approached. Keith had a feeling Lance missed his calling as a schmoozy, Hollywood director. In another reality, perhaps.

Lance reiterated, “What I’m saying is that I’m not rooting for these guys. I’m not _invested_ , ya know? You gotta make me care about Veeran and Shiro.”

“Lance, you don’t care about me?” Shiro asked, looking moderately bruised.

“No, no, not _you_ Shiro. Of course I care about you,” Lance explained, holding his flat palms parallel to one another, “Like, the _character_ Shiro. Shiro the Hero. I gotta be rooting for the hero.”

Coran, still miffed from the earlier slight, nodded, “That’s right! You have to commit completely, really _sell_ it. Remember, like I always say: the louder the better.”

Lance shuffled his hands like he passed weight between them and made a wavering, uncertain noise. “Volume is one thing but... I hate to say this, but getting more from _Keith_ than I am from you Shiro. And he’s practically hissing his lines through clenched teeth.”

Keith wanted to clobber Lance a little less. But only slightly, because the compliment was backhanded.

Allura piped up, looking at Keith, “Your apprehension to doing this is actually working for you, Keith. I sense a bitterness in your tone. Maybe lean into your natural anger a bit more.”

“I’m not angry,” Keith snapped. He wasn’t. Just agitated and stiff — and annoyed about it. 

“There!” exclaimed Coran, “That’s a good way to play it! Like you’re _mad_ at him for leaving you behind.”

Keith glanced at Shiro.

Oh, he could do that. All he had to do was trench up those complicated, upsetting feelings of abandonment he suppressed when he learned Shiro was put on the Kerberos mission. When he flew up into space, disappeared, and left him with a thousand regrets. It had been a few years, but Keith held on to grudges with the strength of a lion’s jaws. He could dig deep and find it. 

So Keith was already upsetting himself with such thoughts when he looked at Pidge and Hunk and asked, “You guys got any more notes for us, peanut gallery?”

Hunk's drowsiness had passed and he shook his head with fervor. 

Pidge, without batting an eyelash, cheekily suggested, “More cowbell?”

Allura furrowed her eyebrows. “What does that...even mean?”

Keith glowered as Pidge just grinned back at him. The Green Paladin had audacity in droves.

Shiro sighed, quickly reaching his wits end. “How can I do better, Coran?” he asked. Such a Shiro thing to do; taking criticism and judgement in stride.

Coran rubbed his chin thoughtfully and muttered to himself before he perked up with an idea. “Oh! I know! Why don’t we do an acting exercise? Keith, we won’t need you for this so you can stand down.”

Keith pressed the datapad into Coran’s chest, stalked away, and sweet relief washed over him the moment his butt hit a chair. With all eyes off him, he could finally breathe. He crossed his arms and settled in to watch Shiro. Which, admittedly, wasn’t very hard. He just wished Coran and Lance weren’t also in view.

“Alright, let’s take a line…” Coran rotated the datapad in his hands and scrolled. “...Ah, this one. ‘I guess this is goodbye.’ You got that, Shiro? Just focus on that one line.”

“Sure,” Shiro nodded.

“Now, go ahead and say it to me. Like you would if you were performing it to Keith,” Coran said and gazed at Shiro with an expectant, if not a little overly attentive and wistful look. He pointed to his own face. “This is me playing love-struck Keith — I mean, Prince Veeran.”

Keith shrunk into his chair, hands plastered to his cheeks.

“Okay...um, ‘I guess this is goodbye.’” Shiro delivered the line. All the words were there and his diction was perfect. But the inflection never changed — just one, flat tone all the way through.

“Right. Now, I’m going to ask you to perform the same line, but in several different ways. The more extreme the delivery, the better!” Coran said, “First, give it to me angry.” He made a scrunched, frowning face to illustrate.

“‘I guess this is goodbye’,” Shiro said. Same intonation, only a little louder.

“Sad?”

“‘I guess this is goodbye.’” Same, only quieter.

“No, like really sad, Shiro. Like you’re gonna start crying because the training deck and gym are out of order sad,” Lance directed.

“‘I guess this is goodbye.’” Same, but in a whisper.

Keith understood what Lance meant by unsalted crackers as the secondhand embarrassment started to set in. For a man who had all the right words to say, Shiro certainly had trouble saying someone else’s.

“Afraid!” Coran suggested.

“‘I guess this is goodbye.’” Same, with slightly wider eyes.

“Confused,” Lance said.

“‘I guess this is goodbye…?’” Same, with a slightly raised question at the very end.

Allura slapped her palm against her forehead.

“Pure, unadulterated happiness!” Coran cried, getting desperate.

Shiro stood up straighter, “‘I guess this is goodbye.’”

Same. Unchanging. Shiro’s consistency was astounding. Though Keith would have expected nothing less from a man with unshakeable discipline. But, for the purposes of their show, his steadiness needed to bend a little.

Pidge leaned over to Hunk, covered her mouth with her hand, and uttered, “For a gay man, Shiro hasn’t got a single theatrical bone in his body.”

Shiro’s head snapped up. “I heard that,” he warned, and then added, with an unusual indignance, “That’s a stereotype and you know it.” He wasn’t actually angry. To Keith, Shiro seemed more upset at himself than anything. He never liked to let the team down, or admit he was a human with imperfections.

Lance rubbed the bridge of his nose and Coran threw his gloved hands in the air with a frustrated wail. If only Shiro could temporarily adopt some of their energy and dramatics — just one percent from each would be plenty. 

“I can’t work like this!” Coran cried. He turned on his heel and made for the white marble archway leading to the embassy’s main hall. He called back to the group, “Everyone take five! I have to gather myself.”

The paladins, active and not, collectively sighed.

Keith knew it was his last chance to back out. He could say he was going to the bathroom, sneak away, and make some fake excuse about Kolivan calling him for a very important mission. But then Shiro took the seat next to him. And Keith missed Shiro. He missed flying with him, running into him in the Castle hallways, training with him before breakfast. So, while the others engaged in their own conversation about Coran’s idiosyncrasies, Keith took the opportunity to talk to his best friend and enjoy his presence.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Shiro echoed.

“You ever think we’d be in a situation like this?” Keith asked.

Shiro shook his head with a chuckle. “Never in a million years.” He leaned back in his chair, resting his head in a way that was uncommonly casual for Shiro. But that’s how they were around each other. Comfortable and uncomplicated. Keith never wanted to ruin that dynamic. 

“You could just take off, you know. I can see how much you hate it. We really could find someone else to play your part,” Shiro said.

Because of course Shiro could read his thoughts.

Keith shrugged, “I think I’m in too deep to back out now.”

Shiro grinned.

“Am I really that bad of an actor?” he asked, after a moment of contemplative silence.

Keith looked at Shiro and weighed his options. He knew better than to lie and Shiro was mature enough to handle some semblance of the truth. So, he gave the man a pursed, sheepish grin and admitted, “Horrible.”

Shiro laughed, bright and wonderful, and Keith felt those pesky lovey-dovey feelings bubble in his chest.

_Dammit._

A relaxed quiet settled between them for a few moments. Then:

“Hey, Keith, I know you’re busy with the Blades. But I was wondering if sometime you would want to — ”

“You can all thank me later, but Coran Coran the Handsome Man has found a solution to our problem!” the Altean man called from across the room, effectively putting all conversations on hold. He approached with a Tanalerian trailing close behind. Keith got a sneaking suspicion that things were actually about to get worse. Much worse. 

Coran and the Tanalerian came to a stop in front of the paladins. “This is Nallem. He’s one of Tanaleria’s representatives to the surrounding quadrants. In — ”

“Culture and arts outreach,” Nallem said, with a dazzling smile and voice that melted like butter. “Thank you for coming to our planet, paladins. We are delighted to host you.”

The team had encountered all sorts on their adventures. Aliens that looked like giant pill bugs and deconstructed balloon animals, aliens that slithered and crawled and skittered, who breathed in nitrogen dioxide instead of oxygen. Tanalerians, by conventional Earth standards, were particularly human and unusually good looking. Keith would have been lying to say he hadn’t noticed. Nallem was no exception. 

The Tanalerian representative stood taller than Coran by at least a foot, had an athletic and lithe build, and carried himself with an air of dignity and class. His golden hair was pulled back in a small, neat bun and his pink skin reminded Keith of bubblegum. The only particularly inhuman trait (besides their rosy skin and feline eyes) the Tanalerians shared was a dusting of red scales across their forehead that curved around their temples and also down the straight bridge of their noses. Nallem’s scales were particularly large and pronounced. Keith wondered if the scales indicated age because, as far as he could tell, Tanalerians didn’t wrinkle.

“Nallem is a thespian himself!” Coran announced.

The pink alien gracefully held up his hands. “Well, I have had my fair share of role playing experience but I would not necessarily call myself a thespian. That is too high an honor,” he said. “Here on Tanalerian, we have a flair for the dramatic.”

“We’ve noticed,” said Allura.

The Tanalerian nodded, “It is a very important part of our culture. Every child in secondary school performs the Pranelle & Wallars Myth. It is a tale of two lovers who — ”

“Die inexplicably circumstantial deaths and thus reconcile their warring peoples?” Pidge asked, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

Nallem’s scales rattled. “Why yes, you know the story?”

Pidge shrugged with her signature smirk. “No, but tragic romance seems to be a pretty universal topic across the board.”

“So, are you like, gonna coach Shiro?” Hunk asked.

Coran shook his head. “Nallem is going to _stand in_ for Shiro. Best way to learn is by example! Up and at ‘em, Keith!” The Altean motioned to Keith. Before the Black Paladin could protest, Coran took Shiro’s datapad and gave it to Nallem...who had strikingly long and attractive fingers. 

Keith felt like he had been hit by a tidal wave. 

He should have run away when Shiro gave him the chance. He glanced back at his team; all hiding grins behind their hands. 

And Shiro just took it in stride with a tolerant shrug. He was always a means-to-an-ends kind of guy and his rational brain probably figured he had more to gain than to lose from watching Nallem read with Keith.

But the young Blade was hesitant for plenty of reasons.

One being the look on handsome Nallem’s face when he said, “Come, Keith. I do not bite. Unless you want me to.” And winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, per usual, this is getting longer than expected. OH WELL! :D


	3. Act 3: The Understudy

Keith was a paladin of Voltron. He was a warrior. A spy. An ace pilot. Keith Kogane was an intergalactic hero who fought in a space war against an evil, tyrannical emperor.

And he had finally met his match in some rosy faced, pretty boy dignitary.

Nallem’s mere existence flustered Keith. Not because he found the alien attractive, but because everything about him was inherently provocative. Nallem’s eyes seemed to undress everyone he looked at. Every flutter of his eyelashes invited attention. His movements carried an effortless sensuality and every time he laughed or smiled, Keith swore there was an ulterior motive to his eagerness and charm. The plunging neckline of his tunic, exposing a well trimmed chest, was just the icing on the cake. Keith pointedly never looked lower than the man’s collar.

Keith reached into the recesses of his mind to find any training that could help him. But there were no applicable maneuvers, no weapons that could fight Nallem’s charisma and make up for Keith’s almost complete lack of interpersonal skills.

He was dead in the water. And Nallem was the shark that smelled blood.

“‘I guess this is goodbye, Prince Veeran.’” When Nallem said it, the line was so genuinely heartbroken and full of longing.

It made Keith immeasurably uncomfortable. But Coran nodded approvingly from where he stood.

The alien didn’t even look down at his lines; he had memorized them on the first glance through. But he held the datapad down at his side. Just in case, he said. Everyone had been so impressed.

Keith, on the other hand, clung to his like a life preserver. He held it between himself and Nallem like a shield.

“‘Do you have to go?’” he recited, rapidly glancing up and down from his script to his scene partner. After what he had gone through at the dock and in the streets, Keith didn’t trust a Tanalerian as far as he could throw them. He was right to keep watch because Nallem took a confident step forward. Keith took an instinctive step back.

“‘The universe needs Voltron,’” the alien said. Instead of delivering it like a proclamation as Shiro had, Nallem said it tinged with regret and very naturally motioned behind him toward the invisible Black Lion. “‘My team and I still have a lot of work to do.’” His glittering, golden eyes watched Keith with an intimate longing that made the young Blade’s skin crawl. 

Why would anyone want to pretend to be in love with a _stranger_ for a _living_? Or a _hobby_ , even. Keith didn’t _understand_. It was beyond the scope of intellect.

“‘Will I ever see you again, Shiro?’” Keith asked. His unwillingness really did work in his favor as he said the line with great uncertainty. Mostly because he was struggling with his flight or fight response.

The real Shiro sat a few yards away. He leaned forward, elbows rested on his knees. Keith wouldn’t dare look in his direction, but he could tell the man was focused. He was completely still; practically a statue.

“‘It may be a long time’,” Nallem said and took two large strides. The sudden movement sent Keith skittering backwards like a frightened animal.

“Keith, you’ve fallen off the stage,” Lance interrupted.

“What?” he asked. He had no idea what ludicrous notion they were talking about as the carpeted ground was flat. Keith’s eyes were still glued to Nallem, who had relaxed and taken a less aggressive stance but...he still wouldn’t stop _looking_ at Keith. Like he was some sort of _meal_.

Coran pointed to the floor and said, “You’ve backed up so far that you’ve figuratively fallen off the side of the stage.”

Keith looked down. In his haste to put distance between himself and Nallem, he had crossed a few feet over an intentionally taped line. 

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to react when he keeps coming at me like that?” he objected, agitated and defensive.

Embarrassed at screwing up at something so simple as coloring inside the lines, Keith made the mistake of glancing at Shiro. He looked tense. As Voltron’s leader, he was probably upset and disappointed at Keith’s lack of decorum. Per usual. He was making the team look bad in front of an important political figure. He needed to get it together.

“We’re lovers,” Nallem said.

 _Lovers_. He wanted to gag.

Whatever face Keith made sent the gaggle of hecklers in the back row into a choking fit. Lance had rejoined his fellow paladins and together with Hunk, Pidge, and Allura, the group struggled to hold in their glee.

Nallem acknowledged the heckling with a knowing smile, but continued to be as composed as Keith was flustered. “Apologies, Shiro and Prince Veeran are lovers,” he corrected. “It seems appropriate to close the space between them.”

“I whole-heartedly agree!” Coran announced. He moved to stand at a middle mark between Nallem and Keith and held out his hands like he was measuring distance. “Keith, take two steps forward.”

Getting his feet to move was like trying to pull a tree trunk up by the roots. The young Blade took two small steps and crossed the tape line threshold.

“Two more,” Coran said.

Keith gritted his teeth and took two more steps.

“Two more.”

He was dangerously close. 

“One more.”

“Coran!” Keith protested, paired with a murderous glare. The Altean shrunk back with a smug, yet pleased look on his face.

When Keith turned forward, Nallem had taken the extra step himself and was officially in what Keith deemed to be his personal bubble. They stood barely two feet apart and he could see the alien’s almost transparent eyelashes when he blinked. On instinct, he shifted back — Nallem reached out and caught him by the elbow. His touch felt as hot as a car’s metal hood under the desert sun.

In a normal setting, Keith would have unsheathed his blade and sliced the alien’s arm clean off. But as much as every fibre of his being wanted to pull away, Keith planted his feet. The last thing the team needed was for him to inadvertently insult some Tanalerian official and lose their chances of an allyship. Keith had been in worse situations. He could handle it. For Shiro.

“Keith,” Nallem said with his silky voice and a pleasant smile, “You are doing very well.”

Shiro told him something like that many times before. Keith basked in that praise.

Coming from Nallem, it made him internally recoil.

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw Shiro shift in his chair and suck in a very deep breath.

“Sorry, I’m just — Not used to this whole acting thing,” Keith admitted.

“Mm,” Nallem hummed thoughtfully. Much to Keith’s relief, the alien let his hand drop away. “In our explorations of space, we Tanalerians have come to understand that what we as a species find exhilarating and innate is quite the opposite for others.”

Pidge interjected, “Humans as a people sort of dread public speaking. Statistically, it’s almost always at the top of a ‘worst fears’ list.”

“Personally, my worst fear is zombies,” Hunk said. “Or actually, _becoming_ a zombie. The thought of eating brains for the rest of my life is just — I need a diverse palate, ya know?”

“Guys, focus,” Shiro warned, tone harsher than usual. 

“Actually, this is an important cultural exchange,” Allura said, shifting to sit on the edge of her chair. Ever the diplomat, Allura was the best at cross species communication and understanding. Keith could only wish he had such grace. Then again, maybe not. Because then people would talk to him too much.

Coran jumped in. “Most Alteans, including myself, have a fear of suddenly falling asleep!”

Hunk’s face scrunched up. “Alteans have a phobia of _narcolepsy_?”

Allura shivered. “Ugh, _terrifying_.”

“How peculiar,” Nallem said with a considerate nod. “I do not think you could find a being on this planet who would not leap at the opportunity to take the stage and express themselves in front of a large crowd.”

“Yeah, well, maybe they should take my place,” Keith grumbled.

Nallem regarded him for a moment. For a terrifying split second, Keith thought the alien was going to ask him for his worst fear. Keith didn’t even have an answer to that. Suffocating in space? Losing his Marmoran blade? Vulnerability?

“What interaction do you find most comfortable?” Nallem asked.

It was a strange question so Keith responded with, “What?”

“When interacting with another, when do you find yourself most comfortable?”

Keith furrowed his brows and almost immediately answered, “Hand-to-hand combat.”

Lance burst out laughing. A bloom of pink crept up Keith’s neck and into his face. He glanced at Shiro. The man was smiling behind his hand. Keith’s pink turned a deep red.

“I see,” Nallem said, though his tone reflected that he emphatically did _not_ understand where Keith was coming from. “And I imagine there are techniques and specific movements you must learn in order to be a good combatant?”

Keith crossed his arms to protect himself. “Y-Yeah. Why is that important?”

“Well, perhaps you can substitute what you know in combat to stagework,” the alien said. As Keith could see no similarities between the two, the approach seemed preposterous.

Nallem took a step back and Keith felt like he could breathe again. “You are naturally moving away from me, yes? Because you are afraid and uncomfortable.”

“I’m not — ”

“It is okay, I am not offended. But, if you could indulge me for a moment — ” Keith did not like the direction this was taking. “ — I want you to imagine that this scene between you and Shiro is not a conversation at all, but a sparring match.”

 _Okay_. Call his interest piqued.

“What a fascinating approach,” Coran approved, fingers holding his chin.

Nallem looked at Keith with a new focus. “What you have been doing in this said ‘sparring match’ thus far is keeping your distance and attacking long range. But it is too safe. You are not doing enough damage to Shiro, so you must change to close combat.”

Suddenly, Nallem was speaking Keith’s language and the puzzle pieces clicked together. Noises of interest and approval sounded from the peanut gallery. Shiro was noticeably less emotive.

“Oh! Keith is also a _spy_! Imagine that you are trying to extract information!” the red haired Altean exclaimed. 

Keith looked at Coran like he had three heads.

Lance’s curious expression flattened. “Coran, you can’t go around outing him like that,” he said.

“Secrecy is kind of the point of being a spy,” Pidge added.

“Sorry, got caught up in the moment,” Coran apologized with a grimace. Keith sighed, which would be as close as he would get to forgiveness.

Nallem held up his all too warm hands with a smile. “I promise your secret is safe with me,” he said. For some insane reason, Keith actually believed him. He felt his defenses drop slowly but surely. The man, however off putting to Keith’s more socially delicate senses, seemed honest. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. 

“But Coran has an excellent point about objective,” Nallem said, “So it is imperative that we ask: What do you _want_ from Shiro?”

The million dollar question hit Keith like a sack of bricks. 

“Uh, well,” Keith mumbled to buy time. He glanced at Shiro. The question put a spotlight on his own feelings. He wanted _plenty_ of things from Shiro. Things he would never dare to say out loud. Things that would make the Black Paladin blush from head to toe if he could read Keith’s thoughts.

Nallem clarified, “In the scene, of course.”

_Focus, you idiot. This is all make believe._

“For him to...be with me?” Keith added a lift at the end so he didn’t seem too eager to say it.

The pink alien grinned. “Yes, I should say so. Your character’s objective is to get Shiro to admit his feelings for you and to allow room in his heart for a possible future together. It is...the target of your mission, if you will.”

Keith nodded. A mission, a target, sparring — all things he could understand.

“But I think we need to raise the stakes,” Nallem said. Something akin to mischief twinkled in his eyes. “The real setting is a conversation in which you want Shiro to admit he loves you, yes?”

Keith nodded again. If only.

“But what I think you should play is that this is a fight and your end goal is to kill him.”

_What the quiznak._

“That’s insane,” Hunk whispered, though loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“It’s insane, but that might just get the desired effect,” Pidge shrugged.

Keith was reeling. They were talking about sparring and then love and then _killing_ Shiro? He felt like he was being dragged in five different directions. “Wait, that’s — so — I would never — ” Keith stumbled as he tried to make heads or tails of the suggestion.

Nallem shook his head. “You misunderstand. It is purely symbolic. _Keith_ knows what it is like to be in a high stakes combat situation. So play Prince Veeran and the scene with the _intensity_ of a life or death scenario. The thought substitution may naturally give you the physicality this scene requires.”

“I must say, I am quite impressed,” Allura approved with a pretty smile, barely concealing her budding crush on Keith’s new acting coach. Nallem gave her a thankful nod and, if Keith wasn’t mistaken, a wink. The princess’s ears turned pink.

“Absolutely right! Stellar instruction. I knew Nallem would be the ace up our sleeve,” Coran nodded.

Shiro noticeably slouched back in his chair and rested a sharp cheekbone on his fist.

Keith, on the other hand, thought his alien scene partner was crazy. But still, he shrugged and said, “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

It was probably going to be a disaster, but maybe it would prove once and for all that Keith was not cut out for their Voltron extravaganza.

“That’s the spirit!” Coran exclaimed and scrolled through his datapad. “Let’s take it from Shiro’s ‘The universe needs Voltron’ line. Whenever you’re ready, Nallem.”

The alien nodded. A focused quiet fell over the room in anticipation for the unknown spectacle about to unfold. No one really knew what to expect. Nallem took a deep, ritualistic breath to settle himself. Keith copied, though less dramatically. 

A fight. He just had to think of it as a fight.

When Nallem looked up next, his expression was intense. He could flip it like a switch. Keith had to admit it was really impressive. And instead of shrinking away from that intensity, Keith stood his ground. He imagined a stand off. A tense battle. And Nallem was his opponent.

“‘The universe needs Voltron. My team and I still have a lot of work to do.’”

For the first time, Keith took a confident step forward. “‘Will I ever see you again, Shiro?’”

He couldn’t let his opponent get away.

“‘It may be a long time. But you are part of the Coalition now,’” Nallem said. He did something different from before and turned away from Keith. His slumped shoulders signalled something like pain or regret. “‘Our fight is your fight.’”

Keith considered his strategy. “‘I know that I am only one person, but you made me feel like so much more. I can’t thank you enough for what you have done. I know you must go, but I will continue the work here and rid my planet of the Galra Empire.’” 

Despite the words, Keith reached out and placed his hand on Nallem’s shoulder. He could feel the alien’s heat through his thin tunic. The touch forced Nallem to look up and Keith knew he had made the right choice. Seeing an opponent’s eyes was the first step to reading their next move. 

“‘I will come find you. When this is all over and the universe is at peace, I will find you and we can be together. That is what I want,’” Keith delivered. His churning, internal thoughts did wonders for his delivery. Even to his own ears he sounded full of purpose and a certain regality.

Nallem shook his head. “‘Your people would never approve of an outsider. I know you have to marry a royal.’”

_Don’t let him get away. You almost have him._

Keith’s hand slid from Nallem’s shoulder to hold the side of his bare neck. His opponent was vulnerable to him like that. Keith could attack a multitude of ways. Like strangle him or pull his head down and knee him in the stomach. Nallem was tall but Keith’s lower center of gravity gave him the upper hand.

“‘What if I told them I was to wed a hero?’” the young Blade asked.

Nallem turned his body toward Keith. Good, it gave Keith easy access to stab him in the heart.

“‘Veeran, this war could take years. I can’t ask you to wait.’” Nallem placed his hand over Keith’s. It was a threat, surely, to pull away Keith’s advantage or to burn Keith with Tanalerian body heat. So Keith doubled down and pressed his palm harder into the alien’s pulse. 

Nallem’s scales rattled, creating a sound very much like the shimmering of a rainstick. Keith wondered what it meant. Perhaps it was a threat, like the shake of rattlesnake’s tail.

“‘I could wait a millennia and never find anyone like you, Shiro.’” 

In his periphery, Keith could see everyone but Shiro. They leaned into the edge of their seats.

Nallem ate up the ridiculous line and moved in closer. He placed his other hand at the small of Keith’s back and Keith let him. The closer they got, the easier it would be to covertly slip his blade up under his ribs and puncture both lungs with two quick jabs (assuming his species had two) so Nallem couldn’t even cry for help without choking on his own blood. 

“‘Oh, Veeran — ’” Nallem leaned in, scales still shimmering.

_What is he doing?_

Nallem closed his eyes and leaned in further.

Sirens went off in Keith’s head.

Decorum be damned. He shoved Nallem so hard that he went stumbling backwards. Keith unsheathed his blade the next second, chest heaving, ready to leap on Nallem if he made any sudden movements. Someone gasped, someone chidingly exclaimed his name, and someone knocked over a chair as they stood.

“What is it with you people and _boundaries_?!” Keith cried, pointing his extended blade at the pink alien.

Nallem’s scales had stopped rattling and he held up his hands in defense. “Apologies, apologies. I suppose I took that too fast, but you were just so — ”

“ — So what? Hm? Thought it would be _funny_ to get a rise out of me? Did Lance put you up to it?”

Lance let out an indignant sound.

A hand wrapped around Keith’s forearm and he turned to cut down the offender. But it was Shiro. Mature, level-headed Shiro come to save the day. He shook his head and said, “Put your sword away, Keith. It’s just a misunderstanding.”

Nallem smoothed out the front of his tunic. “Quite. After all, there is a kiss in the script.”

Bad to worse.

Both Shiro and Keith’s heads snapped in Coran’s direction with a perfectly in sync, “ _What?_ ”

The hand on Keith’s forearm was suddenly electrifying. Maybe if Shiro held his other arm it would complete the circuit, send the jolt through his heart, and put Keith out of his misery.

Coran shifted his weight back and forth, doing his best to not make eye contact with either of them. “Ah, yes. Well, plumb forgot about that. Figured we would cross that bridge when we came to it — ”

“ _Coran!_ ” Both Black Paladins shouted.

“Yes, yes. I realize my error,” the Altean man said, taking it about half as seriously as he should. He scrolled through his datapad, tapping away. “We can look into some alternative blocking. Maybe if Shiro dips Keith you both can sort of fake the kiss. Or we can fade to a tasteful blackout.”

Shiro, in a complete 180 degree turn, looked panicked. Of course he would. He didn’t want to kiss someone he saw as a little brother.

_Fuck._

Keith gripped his sword harder. Someone was going to die. God, he wished Shiro would just let go so he could kill someone and relieve his tension.

“Oh, goodness,” Allura said as she stood and approached the ‘stage’ area. She stopped near Nallem. “It seems we have a creative disagreement that must be solved. You may want to leave before the fighting starts, Nallem. You’ve been most helpful.”

After getting practically assaulted, bodily threatened, and witness to the mayhem that was Team Voltron, Nallem was still composed. He gave Allura a polite nod and said, “It was my pleasure, Princess.” 

Then, he took her hand. Keith expected him to kiss the back of it, like some fairytale prince. Instead, the alien turned her palm up and kissed the inside of her wrist. Tanalerians just really loved to toe the privacy line. Allura blushed, but seemed relatively undisturbed. She must have expected the gesture.

A few yards away, steam blew out of Lance’s ears.

Nallem then approached Keith. His golden eyes revealed what was going to happen next. “I really am sorry for giving you such a shock,” he said.

Keith grit his teeth. Shiro squeezed his arm and then released it. Keith recognized the silent warning and let his blade retract before sheathing it. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it. Thank you for the training — er, coaching.”

“Of course. Contrary to what you think, you are actually a very good actor, Spy Ex-Paladin Keith.”

Keith swallowed hard, blushed, and nodded. It was as graceful as he would ever be when receiving a compliment.

The alien held out his hand. “May I?” he asked, “It is a sign of respect here.”

It was hard to deny a customary gesture when Shiro was standing right behind his shoulder. It was impossible when Allura gave him a tense, parental sort of ‘Do-It-Or-So-Help-Me’ look.

He offered out his hand. The kiss to the inside of his wrist was brief and relatively painless, but the intimacy of the gesture caused Keith to blush even harder. Nallem’s lips were even warmer than his hands. His scales shimmered again.

Curiosity got the better of Keith. “What does that mean? When your — face does that?” he asked when Nallem stood back up at his full height.

Nallem touched the red scales with his fingertips and, for the first time, he looked almost sheepish. “Oh. Well, it is how my species signals arousal.”

Everyone froze. Including Keith, whose eyes went so wide his brows disappeared under his bangs. He should have never asked.

But Nallem continued, “My personal feelings slipped through during our rehearsal because I find you very attractive.”

It was like the oxygen got sucked out of the room.

Hunk and Pidge looked like they were going to combust from the laughter they desperately tried to contain.

Nallem just kept smiling, completely unapologetic. “It is actually an adaptation. Tens of thousands of years ago, Tanalerians would extend their facial plates to nearly seven times their usual size to assert their dominance when fighting for territory or for a potential mate.”

“Fascinating,” Pidge interjected through clenched teeth to keep her laughter at bay.

“It really is. But now we have no need for such a trait as we are a peaceful people. And any residual aggression we have from our ancestors is quelled by vigorous sexual activity.” 

Nallem winked and Keith felt his soul leave his body.

In the blink of an eye, Shiro stepped forward and put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Well, thank you for your help. Watching you work has been invaluable to our cause. We all appreciate your hospitality and the time you have spent,” he said, at a faster pace than he usually spoke. Keith didn’t dare look up. Shiro was standing too close.

The Black Paladin offered his mechanical hand. “This is a handshake. It is how we humans formally greet and say _goodbye_ to one another.”

Keith, numb as he was from what felt like a lifetime of embarrassment, saw hesitation in Nallem’s eyes. But then he took Shiro’s hand and the paladin gave him two firm shakes before letting go.

“I very much look forward to your theatrical experience. I hope to see more of all of you in the near future,” the pink alien said. 

With that, he glanced at Keith, bowed, and left. Shiro’s hand slipped off Keith’s shoulder.

The moment Nallem rounded the corner, Lance grinned, “Pretty sure he wants to see all of _Keith_ in the near future, not us.”

Keith wanted to melt into a puddle, seep into the carpet, and disappear forever.

"Hey, are you okay?" came Shiro's concerned tone.

The young Blade ran his hands through his hair, groaned at the ceiling, and turned for the exit with his tail firmly tucked between his legs. “I need some air.”

That, and about a gallon of nunvil, a shower, and hand sanitizer.

“But you guys have such great chemistry!” Lance called, followed by a cry of pain.

Keith could hear his team excitedly chatter as he retreated. They could talk about him all they wanted as long as he wasn’t there. As long as he didn’t have to hear Shiro’s opinion on anything that just transpired. The final phrase his ears could distinguish before leaving was:

“Hey Shiro, why is the arm of your chair all mangled?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooo boy this was a long one, but I hope it flows okay!


	4. Act 4: Opening Night

“Oh my,” the princess gaped.

“I can’t do it, Allura. I can’t go out in _this_ ,” Keith hissed.

He practically clawed at Allura and Pidge’s dressing room door, as desperate to get through the threshold as a cat frantically trying to escape a full bathtub. Keith quickly glanced up and down the backstage hallway. God forbid Shiro walked by. Or worse, Lance. He would never let Keith live it down.

He felt so _ridiculous_.

“Don’t be so dramatic. You look fantastic,” Allura said and Keith didn’t believe her for one second. The whole team had done nothing but rattle and tease him for the past three days. He loved them, but he was _done_ with their antics and wouldn’t let his guard down again.

Allura opened the door further and Keith took that as an invitation to sneak in and away from any prying eyes. He hovered in the corner of the dressing room near an empty clothing rack and tried to make himself as small as possible.

Pidge sat at a vanity counter tapping away at her computer. She turned to greet him and her hands froze over the keys, mouth dropped open in shock. She pushed her wide rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “Whoa — ”

“Don’t say another word,” Keith warned.

“I mean, it’s a good ‘whoa’,” Pidge admitted with an approving nod. He could see the absolute glee behind her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in... formal clothes? Is that what this look could be called? You clean up well.”

“You really do look like a prince,” Allura agreed as she closed the door. 

Keith's asymmetrical, red silk coat was masterfully crafted. It was appropriately fit for a prince; bespoke and regal with a slimming, long-sleeved cut and golden thread embroidery on every edge. He actually liked the metal gold braces fitted to his forearms. They were etched with geometric floral patterns and felt substantial. Though he was well aware that gold’s softness made for poor armor, Keith thought they at least _looked_ warrior-esque. The knee length coat was paired with straight legged trousers of the same crimson silk and gold formal slippers. Keith did not like the shoes. But, poncy as they were, the slim loafers were lightyears more comfortable than the combat footwear of his suits.

What he especially _hated_ was the dramatically plunging V-cut neckline that ended only a few inches above his belly button, exposing much more than he thought was necessary.

The compliments frazzled him. He didn’t want the praise, nor did he trust it. “Yeah, well, I feel like a circus clown,” he griped.

“Did you comb your hair?” Pidge asked.

“Are you wearing makeup?” Allura gasped, peering at his face from an uncomfortably close distance.

“Some Tanalerian came into my dressing room and practically _assaulted_ my head,” Keith attested. “She put all sorts of stuff in it — wax, gel, I don’t know. And these — whatever these are.” He fingered one of the small golden rings clipped around a dark lock of hair. 

Grumblings aside, the stylist had simply cleaned him up. She had brushed out the tangles on the back of his head, shaped his hair nicely with whatever magical goo she had, and added a few gold clips. Keith himself chose the hair accessories over the other, more gaudy jewelry options.

“And then she put a bunch of stuff on my face, cleaned it off, and then put _more_ stuff on my face. She said if she didn’t, then the bright lights would make my nose disappear or something stupid like that.”

Keith would never admit, not even to Shiro, that he enjoyed that first part. He had melted under the stylist’s hands like putty, let her massage a plethora of creams and serums into his skin, and had practically fallen asleep by the end of the facial. He was less enthused about the eyebrow plucking and light layer of makeup that followed. But he had to admit, the moderate shaping helped bring out his features. Keith looked like himself, except better. He felt like a million bucks. But he was mad about it. Keith wasn’t the type of guy to get pampered or go to a spa day. It baffled him. It was foreign. 

“You guys didn’t go through the same thing?” Keith asked, confused.

Pidge shook her head. “No make up artist for us. Nothing could fix this,” she said and pointed to her own face.

“Pidge, we will have none of that talk,” Allura chided, “You may act like an inelegant teenage boy, but you are a beautiful, smart young woman.”

The young genius put her hand over her heart and said, with a genuine smile, “An inelegant teenage boy. My family would be so proud.” Allura rolled her eyes.

“No,” the princess said, “We haven’t had anyone come by to do our hair or makeup. Perhaps the Coran wanted someone Tanalerian to create your look so it was accurate to their nobility standards.”

“I guess,” Keith shrugged. Something still smelled off about it.

The princess eyed him up and down with a mildly envious gaze. “You do look wonderful, Keith. I wish I had gotten something pretty and shiny to wear. The battle suits are comfortable but they are hardly glamorous,” she admitted, looking down at her paladin armor.

Keith wanted less glamor, thank you very much.

“I feel naked,” he said and crossed his arms to make the point clear.

“You are almost completely clothed. Besides, I know you have been on the training deck shirtless before. You are not _that_ shy,” Allura refuted.

Keith clammed up. “Th-That was one time!” He made the mistake of assuming everyone was asleep _once_. Never again.

“Nallem told me Tanalerians wear open shirts because most of their body heat escapes through their chest,” Pidge said and then grinned, “Among other reasons.”

“Yeah, well, I’m cold and I’m not interested in those other reasons,” Keith grumbled. He pointedly looked at Allura. “I can’t wear this. You have to tell whoever — a costume person or Coran or whatever — that I need an undershirt.”

Allura sat down at the vanity counter and picked up one of the many makeup instruments spread over her space. She looked at him through the mirror. “I cannot do that, Keith. You are wearing this planet’s traditional attire. It would be an insult to the people for you to wear it incorrectly,” she said.

A strangled groan erupted from Keith’s throat and he rubbed his eyes to relieve tension.

Pidge twisted in her chair. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth pressed into a thin grin. “For what it’s worth, I think Shiro will like your costume.”

Allura hid a smile behind a large makeup brush.

“You are all a bunch of sadists,” Keith snapped.

A knock at the door stopped their conversation short. Terrified that it might be Shiro, Keith dashed behind the garment rack. It did little to hide him, as there were no costumes hanging on it.

“Come in,” Allura granted.

The door cracked open and the noodle-shaped head of Bii-Boh-Bi appeared. Voices crackled through his headset and Keith recognized Coran’s tinny, distant voice. Bii-Boh-Bi reached down to the pack at his waist and turned a knob to take down the volume.

“Bii boh!” he announced.

“Thank you, thirty minutes,” the princess responded.

“Bii boh bi?”

Allura, without a moment’s hesitation, pointed directly at Keith. “Yes, he’s here.”

Keith had learned from a few brief encounters that Bii-Boh-Bi was a hardworking, pleasant individual. He didn’t seem to have any interest in mocking Keith. The alien just walked up to him and motioned backwards with his little hand.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to,” Keith said, feeling particularly defensive.

“Bi boh bo boh! Bii bi bo!” the alien stage manager insisted.

Tonal languages — why did they have to be so hard to learn and understand? How could an alphabet only have _four_ letters?

“He says you need to go back to your dressing room,” Allura translated.

Keith crossed his arms tighter. “I am not walking out in that hallway until I have an undershirt.”

Bii-Boh-Bi’s attitude swiftly changed. He shifted his weight, put one hand on his hip, furrowed his brows, and held up a finger in Keith’s face. “Bi _boooh_ boh. Bii bi _boo_. Bi bo _boh_ bi. _Bii. Boh._ ”

Keith froze. He didn’t have to know the language to understand. _‘I’ve had a hard day, Keith. Pull that attitude with me one more time and I’ll make sure you go onstage in nothing but your tighty whities.’_

Allura pressed her lips into a thin line to hold back a smile. 

Keith relented. “Fine. But would you _please_ ask someone in costumes for a shirt. Or another coat.”

“Bii bo bo bo, bi.”

Allura translated, “He said he’ll talk to the designer.”

“Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth. With the grace of a bratty teenager, Keith stalked to the door. He peeked out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. Bii-Boh-Bi decided for him and, with a strength unusual for a creature built like spaghetti, he pushed Keith out of the dressing room and into the open. The young Blade stumbled, but used to momentum to power walk back to the door labelled with his name. 

“See you onstage, your highness!” Pidge teasingly called.

Keith thanked his stars he made it to his dressing room unseen.

He didn’t understand why he had his own, enormous room. It was furnished with eons of counter space, large illuminated vanity mirrors, and a tall golden armoire for a _single_ costume. But now that he was less inclined to see his teammates, he appreciated it.

Unfortunately, there was a new addition to the room when Keith arrived. 

Nallem smiled, charming as ever. “Hello, Keith.”

_Fucking quiznak._

The Tanalerian was dressed in more formal clothes than Keith last saw him — dressed for a night out at the theatre. It was similar to what Keith himself wore, except purple and less flashy. The alien approached and Keith turned to look at Bii-Boh-Bi for back up. But the spaghetti stage manager just gave Keith a perky thumbs up and closed the door. He probably had no idea who Nallem was. He had no idea what fate he had just locked Keith into. 

“You look absolutely sublime,” Nallem complimented with his signature charisma and grace. He kept a good distance from Keith, hands held behind his back. But he saw the way Nallem’s scales shifted when his eyes glanced down.

_Eyes up here, buddy._

Keith quickly crossed his arms to cover his bare chest.

Accidentally murdering an interplanetary diplomat prior to their propaganda show was going to do horrible things for the Coalition’s reputation. So Keith had to keep it together. He knew his escape was right behind him; as long as Nallem didn’t get between him and the door, he would have a safe exit strategy. With that reassurance, Keith could get through a visit with Nallem. Maybe.

“Thank you,” he said, because he was supposed to.

“I wanted to wish you good luck on your first performance as Prince Veeran. You have a sold out, three night engagement. Congratulations,” Nallem smiled. Keith wished he hadn’t said that. It would have been better for his nerves to imagine the thousands of seats empty.

An earlier tour of the outdoor amphitheater made him realize that Coran had been downplaying the audience capacity the whole time. Keith stood on an empty six thousand square foot stage peering out at an empty four thousand seats and the butterflies in his stomach turned to lead and dropped. Thankfully, Shiro was there to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, but I forgot!” Nallem chimed and knocked Keith from his internalized dread, “Blue Paladin Lance told me that it is customary on Earth to wish someone bodily harm before any theatrical endeavor. So: shatter your limbs!”

Keith stared for a moment. It took his brain a few moments to translate before he couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

Nallem’s scales shifted again. “Have I been misinformed?”

“No, no. Lance is right. I think it’s said differently but, uh, that works,” Keith said. He just wished he could be there when Nallem popped his head through Allura and Pidge's dressing room door and told them to _shatter their limbs_.

“Excellent.” Nallem shifted his weight. For once, he seemed slightly...anxious. And that made Keith anxious. It made Keith realize that his plan was not so fool proof. If he never let Nallem stand between him and the door, his unwanted guest would never be able to leave through said door.

“Do you like the Primadonna Suite?” Nallem asked.

“The — ” Keith's eyes widened in realization. Because, of course; why hadn’t he thought of it before? “Did _you_ get me this dressing room?” he asked.

Nallem smiled guiltily and waved one of his hands. “It is not a purchase. I simply made an arrangement with the artistic director. She is an old friend,” he said. Keith had a feeling ‘old friend’ had a very different meaning on Tanaleria. 

Now aware that it was Nallem’s doing, Keith would have preferred a broom closet.

He was almost scared to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you...also arrange for the hair and makeup person?”

Nallem excitedly smiled and stepped closer. “Oh, yes. Ginelle is the personal stylist of most diplomats in the capital. She can work absolute wonders. Did you enjoy her skin treatments? I told her to use the very best.”

Keith felt his heart beat faster. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knew what extravagant gifts and favors from interested parties meant. He knew what a sugar daddy was. He just prayed his new, unwanted benefactor wouldn’t want something in return; that he didn’t expect some immediate gesture of appreciation behind the closed dressing room door.

“It was, uh — I’m not used to spa treatments. It was different,” Keith forced himself to say.

His mind raced with reasons to excuse himself. But then the possibility of running into Shiro was a sobering reminder of why he wanted to stay locked in his dressing room in the first place. He had few, if any, good options.

“Oh, that was hardly a spa treatment. Before you leave, we must do that. A full afternoon of pampering and luxury,” Nallem suggested.

Warning bells sounded in Keith’s head. The last thing he needed was to be even more naked in front of Nallem and let some hot-handed alien stranger touch him more than necessary. A facial was one thing, but a whole spa day with Nallem sounded like a living nightmare. Also, if the Tanalerian gardens operated as lovers’ meeting places, Keith could not imagine what a spa actually meant.

The alien seemed to sense his trepidation. “Only if you want to, of course. Perhaps we could invite Shiro.”

He imagined Shiro relaxing in a sauna, flushed from the heat, sweat dripping down the lines of his pectorals, pushing the tuft of white hair away from his sticky forehead —

And then it dawned on him: it was distinctly possible Nallem was trying to initiate a threesome.

He short circuited. 

Nallem kept talking, but his voice came through like distant, underwater sounds. Keith was far away in the recesses of his mind.

How had his life devolved to this? He should have never come to this planet. He should have just kept training with Kolivan. He should have seen through Coran’s “emergency” call and gone on with his usual business. Keith would at least have what felt like two years of his life back.

“Keith, are you alright?” Nallem asked, appearing utterly baffled by Keith's behavior.

Suddenly, Nallem was between Keith and the door. How had that happened?

“I’m good,” he said, swallowing hard. Keith held up his hands, “Look, um, thank you for the room and the makeup and hair lady but I think — ”

“Consider it an apology, Keith,” Nallem said, with a tilt of his head.

“What?”

“In speaking with some of your fellow humans, it has been brought to my attention that some of the things I said or did in rehearsal were a little bit...aggressive. For you in particular,” the Tanalerian diplomat said, “I never meant any disrespect. If I caused you any discomfort, I am genuinely sorry.”

Discomfort was putting it lightly.

Keith suspected a rouse. His eyes analyzed the movements of Nallem’s face carefully, watching for any hint of pretense. But, as always, the alien was an open book. He smiled and meant it. Keith didn’t know what to do with someone being genuinely nice; he’d had a problem accepting kindness with grace ever since he was young. As Shiro knew all too well.

Still, Shiro had taught him a thing or two about manners. “Thank you,” he said.

“You are welcome. I have plans to apologize to Shiro as well but I had a difficult time deciding upon a gift. I hoped you would point me in the proper direction.”

Keith furrowed his brows. “Why do you need to apologize to Shiro?”

“You are exclusively paired,” Nallem said, as if that was an answer Keith would understand. "I imagine he perceived my advances on you as a slight to his honor."

“What?”

“You and Shiro are...ah. _Ah_.” The alien’s blond eyebrows arched high.

Keith felt like he was missing something. A big something. “Me and Shiro are what?” he asked.

Nallem licked his lips and smiled. There was a worrisome, beguiled twinkle to his eye. “Well, let’s just say, had the Black Paladin Shiro any facial plates, they would have extended to quite an intimidating size when we were in rehearsal. Particularly when he placed his hand on your shoulder and bid me go away.”

Keith was completely blindsided. Because what Nallem suggested was impossible. “W-What are you even talking about?” he stammered, brain trying to keep up with his heart and vice versa.

A strong knock at the door caused Keith to start. He was strung too tight, too riled up in his own thoughts. He didn’t have the time nor the mental capacity to think about this right before his very stressful theatrical debut. God, he could really use a glass of nunvil.

The door opened. Nallem’s body blocked his view, but Keith would recognize the timbre of Shiro’s voice anywhere.

“Hey Keith, I just wanted to — Oh. Hello, Nallem,” Shiro’s tone noticeably changed. “Is there...something we can help you with?”

Keith’s eyes searched for anything he could cover himself with. A blanket, a pillow, the clothes he changed out of — nothing was within reach. Shiro was going to see him in his ridiculous getup and he would just have to suffer through it. 

“No, no, I was just leaving,” the pink alien said. Instead of walking toward the door, Nallem took a pointed step backward to clear the space between Shiro and Keith.

Keith held his breath.

Except for his widened eyes, Shiro went remarkably still when his gaze landed on Keith. His mouth dropped open and a soft, surprised, “Oh,” tumbled out. Keith had no idea whether that was good or bad. He just pulled his crossed arms closer to his body and simmered under Shiro’s fixed look.

The Tanalerian made a noise of approval, which Keith barely heard, before making for the door. Shiro took a few steps forward to get out of his way, but moved like a man possessed. As he left, Nallem peaked through the crack in the door, tapped the scales on his forehead with a knowing smile, and winked at Keith behind Shiro’s back. 

“Oh, and Shiro, shatter your limbs!” he said, before closing the door.

It broke the Black Paladin from his stupor. “What did he just say?”

“He meant ‘break a leg’,” Keith said.

“Right.”

Shiro looked at Keith again. Just stood there and _stared_. 

Keith put up his usual wall. “I know, I know. I look — “

“You look _incredible_ ,” Shiro breathed.

His best friend really shouldn’t say things like that. It put ideas in Keith’s head. Ideas that had been fueled by whatever nonsense Nallem had just put there as well. God, he wanted Shiro to look at him like that _forever_.

“Really?” Keith asked, voice barely loud enough to hear, “I feel like a big, red peacock.”

Shiro stumbled forward a few steps, like he was being pulled by some magnetic force. “No, I — You — Sorry, I’m just a little — You look great.”

When it came from Shiro, Keith actually believed it. His face flushed warm and his hands felt restless. He uncrossed his arms and the paladin’s eyes dropped lower. Keith didn’t even mind. Shiro could look all he wanted. If. _If_ he wanted.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Keith certainly wasn't cold anymore because the dressing room felt like an oven.

“You wanted to talk about something?” Keith asked.

Shiro rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, about the kiss.”

“The kiss.”

“Right.”

“What about it?”

“We never — ”

“Yeah, a lot of rehearsal was spent on fight scenes — ” Keith had a sword for his character on a prop table somewhere.

“Too much, I think.”

“Coran was a real perfectionist about it.”

“But we never got to revisit — ”

“Mhm.”

“ — that final scene,” Shiro said. “And Coran said they couldn’t do a blackout so — ”

“Right, I remember,” Keith nodded.

_Why was this so painful?_

“And I’m really afraid that if we try to fake it — ”

“ — might look really terrible.”

“Yeah.”

“So.”

“So.”

What a strange stalemate they had found themselves in. Keith had no idea what Shiro was leading up to. He wanted Shiro to just say ‘fuck it, let’s just kiss and get it over with’ and fulfill Keith’s oldest fantasy. And Shiro — his perfect, considerate Shiro — was probably just trying to be respectful.

The older man smiled. Keith smiled. A nervous chuckle bubbled between them, but quickly turned into warm, easy laughter. Tension could never last very long between them. It was part of the reason why Keith was so infatuated with Shiro. Their connection was so easy, so unhindered by all the usual interpersonal complications. They could just _be_ when they were together.

Shiro shook his head in disbelief. He sighed fondly and leaned the small of his back against the vanity counter. “You really do hate this, don’t you?” he asked. Because of course Shiro could see right through him.

Keith hesitated before he shrugged. “I just feel so uncomfortable.”

The Black Paladin nodded. “I can — I can go get Nallem, you know. I’m not his biggest fan, but he can learn the lines in five seconds and I’m sure he’ll leap at the opportunity.”

He shook his head. “No, I can do this.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Well, now Keith had gone and thrown away his only chance to get out of it. Because a promise to Shiro was unbreakable.

“We could hug?” Shiro suggested.

Keith's heart skipped a beat, remembering Nallem's suggestion. “Right now?”

The paladin chuckled. “No, in the show. Instead of a kiss we can just...do an extra long hug?”

If that wasn’t the biggest disappointment of Keith’s life, he didn’t know what was.

“Sure, that works,” he agreed, against every fibre in his body. “Like, how long?”

Shiro pushed away from the counter. “Like — ” He approached Keith. Usually, their hugs were crossed; with one arm above and one arm below. This time, Shiro slipped both of his strong hands around Keith’s waist. It was an acting choice, of course, because a hug like that looked more romantic and intimate. Keith wrapped his arms over Shiro’s broad shoulders in response and held on tight. The hug pressed the tension from Keith’s muscles, helped him think more clearly. He breathed in deep, let his mind drift.

“You smell really nice,” Shiro said.

Keith smiled. “Thanks. Some lady came and slathered ten flower creams on my face.” Shiro chuckled and Keith felt it reverberate through his chest.

Shiro held on, so Keith didn’t make the first move to let go. He wanted to milk the moment for everything it was worth. Because once everything was over, he wouldn’t get the chance to savor having Shiro so close. He would go back to the Blades and it would be weeks before he hugged Shiro again, at the very least. 

Keith waited. Five ticks, ten ticks, thirty ticks — _god_ , Keith could get used to being held like that — forty, fifty — Keith's hand crept up the back of Shiro's neck, fingertips just barely brushing the short hairs on his nape — 

A knock at the door startled them apart and Keith felt like the air was knocked from his lungs.

Bii-Boh-Bi peeked his head through the door. He started to say something, but then hesitated, little eyes looking back and forth between the two slightly winded young men. Keith felt a blush coming on.

“Bii boh bo,” said the alien, with a strange amount of suspicion. 

“Five minutes, got it,” Shiro responded from where he was grasping to the counter. Bii-Boh-Bi slowly closed the dressing room door.

Shiro and Keith looked at each other.

“So maybe a little shorter than that hug,” said his best friend.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Keith nodded.

Shiro thumbed over his shoulder. “I should — “

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Why was the air so stiflingly _hot_?

Shiro made for the door, opened it, but hesitated. He nodded out toward the hallway. “He wasn’t bothering you, was he? Nallem?”

“Oh, uh — ”

“Because you don’t have to humor him,” Shiro said, with a lot more conviction than Keith expected. “I know that he’s a high ranking official and that we’re here to win over the Tanalerian people but — You can draw the line. You shouldn’t have to — you know — ” He could tell Shiro was trying to be delicate.

“ — take one for the team?” Keith finished the thought, if a bit crudely.

Shiro nodded. “Yeah. That.”

A devious little thought sparked in Keith’s brain. He didn’t know where it came from. Maybe he felt emboldened by the eons long hug. Maybe Nallem had gotten to him. Or maybe he just figured he had nothing to lose. He only had a few shreds of dignity left, what was a little more gone? He could test the waters; experiment a little. It couldn’t hurt.

“He’s actually a nice guy,” Keith said. It was the truth, but he didn’t actually mean it like _that_.

The surprise on Shiro’s face was exactly what Keith expected. He closed the door slightly. People were milling about the hallway outside, carrying props and scenery, and he deemed their conversation private. “After what happened in rehearsal, I thought you couldn’t stand him,” Shiro said.

“He came on strong for sure."

Shiro scoffed. "That's an understatement."

"But he got me this nice dressing room and a special stylist,” Keith said.

Shiro closed the door, becoming more agitated by the second. “Keith, he can’t _buy_ you. That’s the oldest trick in the book. Across any planet — ”

“I know that. What I’m saying is that it’s... just kind of nice to feel wanted,” the younger man said with a shrug. Nallem’s acting lessons had really paid off because, wow, Keith was impressed with himself. Maybe he _should_ be an actor.

Shiro clenched is jaw and a vein popped out of his neck.

“Right. Well. I mean, you’re an adult now so you can — It's not like you need anyone's permission. I’m just a little surprised, he just doesn’t seem to be the type you — Just...don’t jump too fast, Keith,” Shiro warned, thoughts awry.

While it was possible Shiro was just being protective, Keith had never seen Shiro so riled up about a personal matter. 

“I won’t,” Keith said.

With that, Shiro nodded curtly and went for the door. He put his Galran hand on the knob — and snapped the mechanism clean off with one powerful yank. The handle on the other side fell away and the door swung open with no latch holding it in place.

“Shit,” Shiro cursed under his breath, “Sorry, Keith I’ll — Bii-Boh-Bi! Will you get someone to look at this! Sorry!” He glanced once more at Keith, who stood dumbly in the middle of his dressing room with his mouth agape, and placed the broken knob on the counter. “Sorry, I have to go. I have to — yeah, sorry.”

Shiro covered his face with a hand and disappeared down the hallway.

_What...just happened?_

Bii-Boh-Bi appeared in the wide open doorway. He looked at the doorknob on the counter.

Keith held up his hands. “It wasn’t me.”

Bii-Boh-Bi sighed and held up a shirt on a hanger. “Bi boh?”

“Actually, I think,” Keith turned to admire himself in the mirror and smiled. “I think I’ll just wear it like it’s supposed to be worn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've got a [twitter](https://twitter.com/trogmonologue) and a [tumblr](https://troglodytemonologue.tumblr.com/) account now!
> 
> also, I am imagining Keith's costume to be a space/futuristic version of a sherwani. Beautiful digs.


	5. Act 5: Closing Performance

“My dear Keith, you are an absolute _minx_.”

Nallem leaned against the hallway wall with one arm, gazing at Keith with a brazenly smitten expression. And Keith couldn’t even look away. Because he asked for this. He had brought it upon himself with a full heart and a (relatively) sound mind. That didn’t stop him from blushing profusely.

“Will you do it or not?” Keith asked, voice edged with characteristic impatience.

Nallem cocked his head. “Of course I will do it,” he said. The alien’s golden eyes flitted over Keith’s shoulder, checking on their target. “But we must wait for the opportune moment. He is receiving a token from some adoring patrons.” Keith visibly prickled. He began to turn and see for himself. “No, no. If you look, you will cheapen the effect of your scheme,” Nallem said.

So Keith kept faced forward, toward Nallem and away from Shiro. 

The show was a phenomenal success. Not only had Keith gotten over his stage fright and survived the first two shows, but the response from the Tanalerian public was better than they could have hoped. 

The team couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized. Keith and Shiro in particular. Keith wanted to take to a life of hermitage in the wake of his sudden fame, but Allura and Coran wouldn’t have it. For two days straight, they were dragged across the capital on ‘diplomacy missions’. Which meant fancy parties at notable’s mansions, exquisite publicity meals at exclusive restaurants (Hunk was in heaven), and being stopped on every street corner to mingle with overeager fans. They even officiated the opening of a new community building and the mayor insisted Keith cut the large ribbon with a comically large sword.

It was a bizarre, maddening couple of days. But there were moments Keith genuinely enjoyed. Like getting to spend time in the castle’s common area with his team. And snooping around a dock in disguise with Pidge so she could geek out over the tech and Keith could admire some sporty hoverbikes and pods. And morning sparring with Shiro again. He’d really missed that.

Or when they were all out to dinner one night, laughing and buzzing on a drink Tanalerians called ‘plum nectar’, and Keith caught Shiro’s hazy smile from across the table. Supposedly, the drink wasn’t alcoholic in a traditional sense but it certainly did _something_ because Keith had never seen Shiro so flushed. Also, Lance couldn’t stop serenading Allura with “That’s Amore” at the top of his lungs as they left the restaurant. The Blue Paladin was asleep and slung over Shiro’s shoulder by the time they stumbled home.

And then there were _other_ developments.

Keith told himself not to look for something that wasn’t there. But after what Nallem said and the incident with the door handle, the seed had already taken root. 

He saw it in subtle ways. In how many times he caught Shiro looking at him or how Shiro would bring him a plate of food at parties. Easy things Keith could write off as a best friend checking in. But then there were times when Shiro would butt into a conversation and save Keith from an aggressively flirtatious Tanalerian. Or when he would intercept someone before they even got to Keith. Or when Shiro possessively placed his hand on the small of Keith’s back as they left that restaurant, palm lingering just a bit too long. 

But Keith needed something more concrete. Which is where Nallem came into the picture.

“Alright,” Nallem said, his eyes sliding back to Keith. “He is looking.”

The alien dignitary leaned in closer, looked right into Keith’s eyes, and rattled his facial plates.

Behind him, a loud _CRACK_ , followed quickly by the shattering of glass echoed through the hallway. Keith turned immediately.

Shiro stood in the middle of the hall with a bewildered look on his face. His hands held the remnants of a large broken bottle and plum nectar pooled in a sticky puddle at his feet. The two Tanalerian women with him giggled in delight. “Oh, you are so _strong_ ,” one of them cooed.

“I’m so sorry — ” he said to the woman, but then glanced at Keith with panic in his eyes. “ — This was such a nice gift. I didn’t mean — ”

The door, the bottle, the lingering touches — the evidence was piled up. But Keith still had a hard time believing it. 

“I would call that a successful experiment, would you not?” Nallem quietly murmured, a grin spread across his face.

After helping Shiro pick up the largest pieces of glass and accidentally brushing hands while doing so, Keith escaped to his dressing room and spent the next twenty minutes talking himself into doing something about his dilemma.

The room reeked of flowers; gifts from patrons and fans. From edge to edge, the entire counter was covered in vases filled with bouquets and some arrangements even spilled onto the floor. Keith would have enjoyed it more, if the sheer quantity didn’t give him such a headache. Only one section in the middle of the counter was left unoccupied for the sake of the visiting hair and makeup artist. But she was gone and his look was finished for the last time.

The last time.

Keith knew, by that time the next day, he would be back with the Blades. He wouldn’t see Shiro for weeks — months even, depending upon where Kolivan sent him next. Even then, he wouldn’t get to pretend to be in love with him or hug him longingly. They would just be friends again. But Keith desperately wanted more, more than he ever had before. And he thought it was very possible that Shiro wanted the same.

The thought made him flush and pace.

Someone knocked on the door and Keith nearly jumped out of his skin. “Yeah?”

Hunk’s cheery face peeked inside. “Oh, hey, look at that! The door’s fixed!” he observed. “Bii-Boh-Bi wanted me to tell you we’re almost at places.”

Keith nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Hunk’s expression shifted from bright to concerned. The Yellow Paladin had always been alarmingly good at being in tune with his friends. Infuriatingly good at it. He stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind him. “Keith, buddy, you okay?” he asked. There was also something about Hunk, despite him being just as bad as Pidge and Lance when it came to teasing, that made him approachable. 

The young Blade reached up to rub his hands against his eyes but remembered his makeup. He ran his hands lightly through his hair instead. “What do I do about Shiro?”

“About what? His dashing good looks? His debonair smile? The way he bites straight through a string cheese like a psychopath?” Hunk joked, “Ya gotta be more specific.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Oh… _Oh._ ” Hunk’s eyes went wide. “Oh boy, I really don’t think I’m the person to talk to about this — ”

Keith deflated into a chair with a sigh. “Yeah, sorry. Just forget it. Tell Bii-Boh-Bi that I’m ready.”

Hunk hesitated to leave. He shifted his weight back and forth. “Okay, joking aside, you guys really should, like, talk it out.”

Keith gave Hunk an unimpressed look.

“Yeah, I get that it’s easier said than done. But...okay,” Hunk backtracked. He pulled out a chair and sat in front of Keith, going into full intervention mode. “You two have, like, a freaky good connection. I don’t mean that in a weird way like ‘oh, you guys are really freaky’ because that’s your business — ”

“Hunk, please, I can’t take this kind of talk right now.”

“ — What I’m _saying_ is that you guys are crazy in sync. From the moment you guys were reunited it was like — ” Hunk made a wide gesture and a garbled explosion noise which could have been either a firework or a spaceship combusting. “ — Ya know? Like, everyone around you can see it. The way you guys fly together, fight together — heck, just talking with each other you guys have to say less words. It’s like you got this telepathic connection or something.”

 _If only._ That would have made things a hell of a lot easier.

“But then there’s this one big elephant in the room you can’t even begin to approach. So I’m gonna tell you what you need to hear and, ultimately, what I think you hoped I’d say: Shiro may be the handsomest, smartest, most talented guy in the universe, but sometimes he can be as dense as a black hole,” Hunk said, with a humorous sincerity only he could pull off. “It’s gotta be you, Keith. You’ll have to move the elephant yourself.”

Hunk was right. And Keith hated it.

“Ugh,” he groaned and put his head in his hands.

Hunk patted his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. One day in the future, when you’re reminiscing with your part Galra, all genius-prodigy babies with salt and pepper hair, you’ll get to tell them a fun story about how you finally met their dad.”

 _Kids. With Shiro._ What a crazy thought.

“That’s not biologically possible, Hunk.” Keith shook his head.

“We’re half a universe away from home, fighting an alien war in magical lion fighter ships, and performing some weird epic on a planet where everyone is pink. Never say never.” Hunk shrugged with a smile. The Yellow Paladin stood, tapped Keith’s crown with his knuckles, and made to leave. 

He turned back at the doorway. “But seriously, I’d be _super_ honored if you named one of your kids after me.”

Keith smiled. “Name one of them what? Hunk Jr.?”

“No, _Hone_.” Hunk blinked a few times before his mouth dropped open. “Did you seriously not know that? Did you really think my parents put ‘Hunk’ on my birth certificate?”

“...Yes.”

Hunk’s loud, hearty laughter echoed through the room and the hall as he closed the door behind him. “Hey, Lance, guess what — ”

Keith decided he just had to make it through the show. Then he would decide what to do.

When it was time, Keith left the safety of his dressing room for the backstage area. From the darkness of the right wing, he could hear the excited murmurings of a full house and the intrepid pre-show music. His palms tingled. He shook out the nerves in his arms and jumped up and down a few times. Just one more show. He could make it.

A strong, familiar shoulder bumped Keith’s. Decked in his recently polished armor with his helmet resting casually beneath his arm, Shiro smiled at him. Keith felt the nerves melt away. “Hey,” the older man said, “Shatter your limbs.”

Keith chuckled and echoed, “Yeah, shatter your limbs. I can’t believe that caught on.”

They stood together, waiting for the music to fade and the lights to go down. Keith wanted to say something; wanted to blurt out all the overeager feelings in his head. But he knew it wasn’t the right time. And as Shiro waited, so calm and collected, Keith began to second guess himself. 

“Or maybe, shatter a few bottles,” Keith said.

Shiro grimaced. “That was so embarrassing.”

“What happened?” 

The older man rubbed the back of his neck and looked everywhere except Keith’s eyes. “Oh, uh, I don’t know. The bottle was probably — uh — cracked to begin with or something.”

“Mm, makes sense,” Keith nodded. It absolutely _did not_.

Shiro shifted his weight. Keith crossed his arms. And then, “Hey, Keith? After this is all done, are you and Nallem going to keep — ”

The music and lights faded. A quick, polite recording reminded the audience to silence all devices. Then, a valorous ballad blared from the speakers. Shiro took a deep breath and slipped on his helmet. “That’s my cue.”

As Keith watched Shiro dash onto the stage in the blackout, he marvelled at how bad timing was really at the center of all his problems.

Scene after scene, the show went as planned. Keith remembered his choreography, waited for the screams to die down after every one of his entrances, and genuinely tried to enjoy the experience. Because Keith swore to himself that he would retire his actor life immediately following the last performance.

Then Keith made a grave mistake.

Instead of anticipating the next move, he got too caught up in the moment. He let his guard down; became too comfortable because he ran on instincts. As the final scene with Shiro approached, he let his complicated feelings get the best of him. He thought about how he would miss Shiro. How desperately he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to even begin. 

“‘The universe needs Voltron. My team and I still have a lot of work to do’,” Shiro said, chest heaving from the last fight scene and brow glistening with sweat under the bright stage lights. Keith was practically blinded by his glow; like he was looking at the sun. 

With all the other paladins having already flown away in their lions, Shiro and Keith stood alone on stage. Save for Black, who sat patiently on the far side waiting for her moment to shine. The audience sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation, surprisingly silent for such a large crowd.

“‘Will I ever see you again, Shiro?’” Keith asked. The pain behind the question was real.

“‘It may be a long time. But you are part of the Coalition now. Our fight is your fight.’”

“‘I know — ’”

And then there was nothing. Not a single word came to Keith’s head. He was a complete blank. In the moment it mattered most, he forgot his lines.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

He panicked, then repeated himself, “‘I know — ’” but his body refused to cough up the rest of the dialogue. Keith’s stomach sank. He could feel the thousands of eyes watching him, waiting. It felt like he was silent for a millennia, though it was realistically only a few seconds.

Shiro inconspicuously covered the microphone near his jaw. “Keith?” he whispered.

_C’mon, Keith. Get yourself out of this._

He remembered Nallem’s acting lesson.

_Objective._

As long as he moved toward his objective, the actual lines didn’t matter as much.

“Are you okay?”

_What does Prince Veeran want? What does —_

_What do I want?_

“Shiro, I — ” he stuttered.

_To hell with it._

Keith looked directly at the Black Paladin and said, “Shiro, I want you.” 

Shiro’s eyes went wide. “Keith, that’s not the line — ”

“No, listen to me, Shiro,” he demanded and the paladin’s mouth snapped shut.

_Here goes nothing._

Keith stepped forward. He mustered up every ounce of courage in his body and pushed it past his lips. “I’ve wanted you for — for what feels like forever. That sounds insane and so unrealistic and stupid romantic when I say it out loud, but it’s the truth. But everything about my life — our lives — God, just look at where we are. How far we’ve come.”

Shiro stared back at Keith in awe. He knew he could be messing up everything. But he had already pressed the pedal to the metal. There was no going back.

“You’ve brought us to the stars, Shiro. It didn’t happen the way we wanted, but we’re here in this mess and...it’s the greatest adventure I’ve ever had,” Keith admitted, a small smile breaking through his nerves. “And there is no one in this universe I would rather be standing with right now than you. No matter the odds, no matter the galaxy; when you’re nearby, I feel like I can do anything. Even something as insane as this.” He gestured wide, meaning the show. Though the audience could interpret it however they wanted. He wasn’t a writer or a poet; he was just doing his damn best.

“I know that what we do is bigger than the both of us. I know — so _painfully_ well — the roles we have to play. That when this is done, we’ll have to go our separate ways again. Me to figure out my complicated past and you to lead the team. But I’m willing to stick it out. I’ll train and I’ll fight and I’ll fly just like you taught me — We’ll see this through until the end, Shiro.”

Keith could swear Shiro was smiling. But he was so hazy and hyped up on adrenaline, it was hard to really comprehend what was happening.

“And maybe, when this war is finally won, I’ll have the guts to tell you this all again. But, until then, you’ll have a lot of time to think it over,” Keith said.

“Think what over?” Shiro asked.

Keith thought his heart was going to burst with how fast it raced. “If you want me too.”

Shiro’s mouth dropped open. But before he could reject Keith in front of a couple thousand people, Keith took one last leap. If he was going to suffer for what he’d done, at least he was going to get one good thing out of it. Keith raced forward, grabbed Shiro’s beautiful face with both hands, and pulled him down into a kiss.

Fuck, _yes_.

When they had hugged there were plenty of ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. But the kiss made the audience go absolutely wild. The amphitheater erupted with cheers and screams. The deafening response almost startled Keith back. But, really, nothing could pry him away from Shiro’s lips. Those wonderful, perfect lips Keith had always dreamt about. It was a firm press, unmoving; but solid and sure. Unmistakable. 

If Kolivan ended up sending him on a suicide mission, Keith didn’t care. He could die happy now.

Just as one of Shiro’s hands touched the small of his back, Keith pulled away. With an electrified grin that could jumpstart a battle cruiser, Keith said, “Now go. Save the universe.” And released the Black Paladin from his grasp.

Shiro was stunned. He seemed only half conscious of his own being. More lines were written, but he couldn’t seem to say anything. He stumbled backwards and tripped over the threshold of Black’s entry ramp. Even as the lion lifted from the ground by its paws, his eyes never left Keith. 

The young Blade stepped back, black hair whipping around his face from the force of Black’s thrusters and watched as the ramp closed, Shiro disappeared from sight, and the Black Lion flew away.

The lights blacked out and Keith scurried offstage in the darkness, fingers pressed to his lips. His senses were numb. He couldn’t hear the thunderous applause from the audience. His legs moved on their own, swiftly taking him to the safety of his dressing room before anyone could stop him. But once he was there, Keith didn’t know what to do with himself. He paced the room and tore at his hair. 

Gravity brought him back to Tanaleria and the regret began to creep in.

He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t handle the wave of suitors that would flood the backstage hallways. He didn’t even want to stay for the after party. He needed to get far away and regroup his thoughts so he had an excuse for Shiro when he finally did see him again. The lions had three end of show fly-bys. As long as he cleared the building by then, he would be safe.

Keith quickly shed his costume and donned his usual casual attire of a black shirt, black pants, and his boots. Just as he grabbed his jacket, the dressing room door opened. He could already hear the crowd gathering backstage by the sound of excited voices and shuffling feet.

“I’m not gonna — ” Keith stopped short. 

Shiro leaned back against the door to close it, breathing like he had just run a marathon. He wrestled his helmet off and tossed it on the couch nearby, helmet hair sticking out in every direction. And Keith was entangled by a trap of his own making.

“How did you — ”

“I skipped the fly-bys,” Shiro answered before Keith could finish the question.

“Shiro, I — ”

The Black Paladin held up his hands. “Keith, I need you to just tell me point blank: was that you acting?”

Shiro was giving him an out. But he could never lie outright to the man he loved. So he swallowed hard and said, “No.” He held his jacket in a tight fist.

Shiro looked dazed. Someone hurriedly pounded on the door and Shiro revolved, cracked it open just a bit to say, “J-Just give us five minutes. Just five minutes, please.” He slammed it back shut and, for good measure, grabbed a chair and wedged it underneath the doorknob. “These people are just too much sometimes…”

“Tell me about it,” Keith said, nervously.

Shiro looked at him. “Did you — Did you mean all those things you said?”

“Yes,” Keith answered, quiet and a little scared. His confession now stood in full view for Shiro to judge.

Shiro rubbed his hand across his own jaw and mouth. He blinked almost rapidly. Then asked, “Do you really want to wait until the war is over?”

Keith shook his head. “Not at all.”

By Keith’s next breath, Shiro had closed the space between them. He didn’t even have time to gasp for another before Shiro swept him up in a kiss that nearly sent him to the astral plane. They grasped at each other, both a little overeager and clumsy with their approach. But Keith always wanted to know what it felt like to run his fingers through Shiro’s undercut as he bit down on his lower lip. Now he knew. He knew exactly how _divine_ it felt.

As Shiro drove him backwards, Keith nearly stumbled over a chair. He caught himself briefly before Shiro’s hands suddenly grasped the backs of Keith’s thighs and hoisted him up onto the long countertop. Shiro had been between Keith’s legs before when they were sparring. But this was different. Keith’s body was reacting _very_ differently.

In his haste to pull Shiro closer, one of Keith’s knees knocked against a large flower vase. It tumbled from the counter and landed on the ground with a loud _CRASH!_ Water, glass, and lilies scattered everywhere.

“Is everything alright in there?” came Coran’s voice from the other side of the door.

The two parted and froze, like they had actually been caught in the act. They looked at one another, barely inches apart and panting against each other's lips, and broke into smiles.

Keith grasped at Shiro’s broad shoulders. “Y-Yeah, everything’s fine! Shiro’s just breaking things again!” he answered, trying to keep the sheer giddiness in his voice at bay.

Shiro pushed Keith’s back against the mirror as he leaned forward and stifled a laugh against his neck. Keith loved how that felt. On the other side of the door, the pair heard Coran rounding up the crowd that had gathered to wait at Keith’s door. _C’mon now, let’s give Prince Veeran a moment to get out of costume_ , they heard the Altean say. They waited until the commotion died down.

Shiro pulled back, gray eyes gazing back at Keith in a way that was so explicit it made the younger man flush. “So, you’re not into...anyone else?” the paladin asked.

Keith hooked two fingers into the collar of Shiro’s armor. “Not even a little bit. And if I was, I want you to kiss me until I forget everything about them,” he grinned and pulled Shiro in to capture his lips again. 

Stars, reality was so much better than fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yahoooo!!  
> thanks to everyone for reading this and for all the ABSOLUTELY LOVELY COMMENTS everyone has been leaving along the way. I appreciate every single one of them.  
> ALSO, don't miss the epilogue ;)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/trogmonologue) || [tumblr](https://troglodytemonologue.tumblr.com/)


	6. Curtain: An Epilogue

“Where could they even have gone? The dressing rooms only have one way in and out,” Allura insisted as Lance handed her a shimmering glass of plum nectar. A lavish closing night party was in full swing around them. For a moment, the team had a respite to convene amongst themselves.

Pidge pointed to the ceiling. “A skylight. Really difficult to get to. Like, it shouldn’t have been possible.”

“But if any two people could worm their way out of an impossible situation, it would be Keith and Shiro,” Lance admitted and took a sip from his own flute.

“Do you think everything’s okay?” Hunk asked, more anxious than the rest of the team for his own reasons. “Like, Keith said some pretty heavy stuff during that last scene. What if he came on too strong or something? Oh god, what if Shiro turned him down?”

Pidge shook her head. “No way. Did you see Shiro’s face? Look up ‘enamoured’ in the dictionary and Shiro’s picture is gonna be there.”

“Knowing Shiro, they’re probably sitting back at the castle talking really mature about their future and making a list of pros and cons of being together _now_ versus _later_ ,” Lance said.

“Well, they’ll have to show up eventually. Otherwise some of these patrons might get very upset,” Coran said with a twist of his mustache as he looked around the crowded room.

“Yes, they have been asking after them all night,” the princess said. Allura spotted a familiar face over Coran’s shoulder. She waved him down and the Tanalerian came to join the Voltron circle.

“Congratulations on a spectacular run, Paladins. You are quite the hit,” Nallem said with a smile, “Perhaps a revival is in the works? Or an extended run?”

Coran drooped. “I’m afraid we have to get back to our usual business of saving the universe and battling the Galra. Evil does not sleep, unfortunately,” he said aloud, but then leaned in to whisper behind the back of his gloved hand, “But neither do I. Between you and me, a sequel is in the works.”

“Glad to hear it,” the pink alien nodded.

“Nallem, you didn’t happen to see Keith or Shiro after the show, did you?” Allura asked.

The somewhat guilty expression on the alien dignitary’s face gave away the answer. “Ah, well — ”

“We just wanna make sure they’re not, like, fighting or trying to avoid us or something,” Hunk said.

Nallem shifted his weight. “Ah, well, they seemed perfectly content when I caught a glimpse of them.”

“Do you think they will make it to the party?” the princess asked.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Their stamina,” Nallem answered.

Everyone in the circle looked mildly confused. Except, Pidge. The Green Paladin’s eyes went wide behind her round frames and she pursed her lips together. “Stamina? What the heck are they sparring for right now?” Lance asked, genuinely confused.

Nallem clasped his hands behind his back. “You misunderstand. The last I saw of Keith and Shiro, they were slipping into the embassy garden together.”

Allura choked on her drink. Everyone else froze.

“An excellent choice, really. Everyone who lives or works at the embassy is here at the party tonight. So they will undoubtedly have the gardens to themselves. I just happened to stop by my office before coming here and saw them sneaking away,” Nallem smiled.

Coran cleared his throat.

Hunk downed the rest of his drink.

“So they are probably _not_ coming,” Allura said, trying and failing to suppress a blush.

“If Shiro’s gym time is any indicator, he’s got stamina for days,” Pidge interjected. She was soundly reprimanded by several of her teammates almost immediately, but looked pleased as punch to get such a reaction.

Nallem took a device from his pocket. “It has been some time since I saw them. Perhaps — ”

Applause and cheers erupted on the opposite end of the party hall. Over the gathering sea of Tanalerian partygoers and patrons, the team caught sight of Keith and Shiro at the archway entrance. They stood hand in hand, relaxed and easy. They both smiled from ear to ear, bowing graciously to the warm reception and willingly accepting the attention. They looked unabashedly happy.

“Oh, thank the stars,” Allura sighed.

“Wow, I didn’t know the post-sex glow was a real thing,” Lance noted. Allura knocked the back of her hand soundly against his ribs.

“Wait, guys, gather in, gather in,” Hunk said, pulling his team (including Nallem by proxy) into a closer huddle. “We have to, like, act normal around them. This was a super big step for them and we can’t freak them out.”

“Like, we can’t let them know that we know that they had semi-public sex tonight?” Pidge asked.

“I wasn’t gonna state it so explicitly, but yes, exactly,” Hunk said.

Lance rubbed his forehead. “So what do we do?”

“Act _super_ normal. Like don’t say anything about the gardens or how they disappeared tonight or make them think we’re on to them,” Hunk said.

Nallem nodded.

“It’s just Keith and Shiro. It’s not like they’ve _changed_. We knew this day was coming eventually,” Allura added.

“Guys?” Coran’s eyes peered outside their circle. “They’re looking straight at us.”

The huddled team looked up and, sure enough, Keith and Shiro were staring at them from across the room, moderately confused.

“Act normal!” Hunk hissed.

The group sprang apart, all performing their varying interpretations of normal. Lance put his elbow up on Allura’s shoulder and started laughing obnoxiously. Allura put her hands on her hips and laughed along with him. Hunk drank from his already empty flute. Pidge looked at the ceiling. Coran turned and pretended to make animated small talk to Nallem. Nallem suddenly took the band out from his hair and shook out his blonde, shoulder length locks. 

Shiro and Keith looked at one another. Then, waved warily to their friends.

The Voltron team and Nallem waved back enthusiastically and in perfect sync.

Lance grinned. “Nailed it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there you have it, folks.  
> I am HIGHLY considering writing the actual script for Romance of Voltron. Like, Coran's script. Stay posted.  
> And again, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the support for this fic. I am so happy so many people liked it. :DDDDD
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/trogmonologue) || [tumblr](https://troglodytemonologue.tumblr.com/)


	7. The Script

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coran the Playwright is Ham Man Extraordinaire from Melodrama Town, Shiro is the Worst Actor Ever, and Keith never knows what to do with his hands. [Imagine handwritten notes from the characters in the brackets.] For all you non-theater folk: a (beat) suggests either a small pause or a change in tone.
> 
> This is pretty quick and dirty, but very fun and I hope you enjoy. <3

## THE ROMANCE OF VOLTRON

by Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe

Premiered at The Pranelle-Wallars Amphitheater  
on Tanaleria, 14th Planet of the Omicron Galaxy  
at the request of Minister L. M. Bavell  
under the supervision of Culture & Arts Outreach Representative, Nallem Opell

**PLAYWRIGHT’S NOTES**  
Ideal venue is a large, outdoor stadium with a multi-story amphitheater stage. The play requires enough ground for large, robotic lions and playing space for elaborate fight choreography on land and in the air. A large blank screen far upstage will serve as a projection background for scenery, other visual effects, and transitions. Other required set pieces will appear via small lifts in the stage floor.

 ~~Pyrotechnics optional, but highly encouraged.  
Pyrotechnics not in the budget.~~  
Limited pyrotechnics back in the budget with many thanks to the Tanalerian Performing Arts Commission.

 **CAST OF CHARACTERS**  
Shiro, Black Paladin of Voltron played by Himself  
Keith, Red Paladin of Voltron played by Princess Allura  
Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron played by Himself  
Hunk, Yellow Paladin of Voltron played by Himself  
Pidge, Green Paladin of Voltron played by Herself  
Prince Veeran played by ~~Tanalerian Actor~~ Keith  
Guntara  
Galra Commander  
Galra #1  
Galra #2  
Galra #3  
Ensemble of Rebel Fighters

___________________________

**SCENE 1**

_A dark stage. Intrepid orchestra music rises, setting the tone for a romantic adventure about to unfold. The audience should feel the excitement in their very core! Music fades slightly, then — ROAR SFX!_

_A spotlight shines far left on HUNK, knees quaking as he hides behind his bayard gatling gun._

HUNK  
There’s way too many of them! We need one of your bright ideas, Pidge!

_A spotlight for PIDGE far stage right. She swings her grappling hook bayard._

PIDGE  
If you had a spare urfenlayer, some biz-gizmo wires, and a bottle  
of hydro-moxy-dino-dine, I could make a Magaluf Cocktail!  
But I doubt you’ve got any of those stashed away in your suit, Hunk!

[Note from Pidge: This is a bunch of nonsense jargon. And it's ‘ _Molotov’ cocktail.]_

__

__A spotlight for LANCE stage left. He does something flashy and useless with his sniper rifle._ _

__

LANCE  
Well, we need an idea quick because —  
Keith! Watch where you’re swinging that thing!

_A spotlight for KEITH stage right. He swings his bayard weapon aggressively._

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
Then stop standing there looking pretty, Lance! Get out of my way!

_A spotlight shines center on our hero, SHIRO, metal hand ablaze. He holds himself ready for a battle and has a confident and level-headed air about him._

SHIRO  
Don’t let your guard down, team! We can do this!  
Hunk, watch your six!

_Full lights up on a dense jungle. Vines, gold and red flowers. A small swarm of GALRA SENTRIES closes in on our heroes._

_An epic, somewhat chaotic fight scene ensues. But the team is capable in their own ways, showing off their talents of brains, brawn, and sheer Voltron will! Pidge outsmarts a sentry. Hunk screams and scurries away from an opponent. Lance miraculously dodges all harm. Keith tears through three sentries with his rage and other repressed, angsty emotions. Shiro slices and dices with ease._

_When it’s down to the last one, Shiro does a very cool backflip off the edge of the proscenium and cuts down the last sentry._

_Hold for applause._

_The team regroups far downstage, sheathing their bayards and removing helmets. Dim the lights upstage so crew can quietly remove the remains of Galra Sentry corpses._

SHIRO  
Looking good, team.

LANCE  
Thanks, I changed my moisturizer lately and it’s doing wonders.

HUNK  
( _kicking a sentry leg_ )  
These guys weren’t messing around.

PIDGE  
It’s almost like they knew we were coming.

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
I still think the beacon’s a trap. The city we passed on the way in  
is overrun by Galra.

SHIRO  
Still, we have to be sure. Voltron comes to the aid of anyone  
in need. No matter the danger.

_Pidge looks at her gadget._

PIDGE  
It says the beacon is right around here...there it is!

_A BEACON ROD rises from the ground! The team approaches it._

PIDGE  
Looks like your run-of-the-mill Donhofflensteinberg beacon that  
emits mingle-toon waves on a tweezer-trot frequency with its  
righty-tighty antennae.

[Note from Pidge: These aren’t even real words!]

LANCE  
What does that mean?

PIDGE  
That it’s not Galra. So there must be someone else.

HUNK  
Someone _worse_ than Galra?

SHIRO  
No, someone who needs help.

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
I still don’t like this...

LANCE  
You don’t like anything.

SHIRO  
Anything else you can tell us, Pidge?

PIDGE  
Not really, sorry.

SHIRO  
Alright. ( _Beat_ ) Team, let’s split up. 

HUNK  
I hate it when you say that.

SHIRO  
We’ll cover more ground that way.  
Look for anything out of the ordinary.

_With varying levels of enthusiasm, Pidge, Hunk, Keith, and Lance exit the stage to ‘search’._

_Shiro ‘treks’ around the stage. The screen’s scenery shifts with his movement, background music plays to suggest passage of time. Shiro searches and searches. A large ROCK FORMATION slides on from stage right and Shiro decides to take a rest._

_He sets his helmet down and leans over a pool of water (projection and water SFX). Shiro splashes water on his face and wipes away blood from a cut on his forehead._

_PRINCE VEERAN enters upstage. He is a smart and capable warrior prince, dressed in regal attire. He cautiously approaches Shiro. He climbs the rock formation, looms above the paladin with his sword drawn. Shiro sees a figure in the reflection, activates his arm, and turns. Veeran leaps from the boulder and the two tumble!_

_The tussle is brief. Within one or two hits, we can tell they are equally matched. Veeran kicks Shiro’s breastplate, sending the two of them apart. They stand, ready to continue the fight._

_Suddenly, time stops. Spotlight illuminates them both, as if they are transported elsewhere. Romantic music. Chimes. A tinkling bell. They look at one another, wide eyed. Shiro is struck dumb by Veeran’s beauty. Veeran is taken aback by the strong, handsome stranger._

_Love at first sight._

_Fade spotlight and music._

[Note from Keith: What the _quiznak_ is _this?_ ]

VEERAN  
Your armor... Are you a paladin of Voltron?

SHIRO  
Yes. Yes, I am. Are you... the one who set the beacon?

_Veeran nods and sheaths his sword as a sign of peace. He places one hand on his chest and bows._

VEERAN  
I am Prince Veeran, leader of this planet. Had I known who you  
were, I would not have...

SHIRO  
( _joking_ )  
Tried to kill me?

VEERAN  
( _sheepishly_ )  
Yes, I suppose so. Though, you do not seem particularly easy to kill.

SHIRO  
Neither do you. ( _beat_ ) I’m Shiro, Voltron’s Black Paladin.

VEERAN  
It is an honor.

SHIRO  
No, the honor is mine. Your highness.

_Shiro bows nervously and Prince Veeran seems charmed._

SHIRO  
Why did you set the beacon for us?

VEERAN  
I need your help, Shiro. My people are suffering at the hands of the Galra. They are draining our resources. They steal our most talented citizens for their work camps. They hurt all those who stand in their way. It has become unbearable.

SHIRO  
I’m sorry. I know all too well the damage the Galra can do.  
( _dramatically flexes metal hand_ )  
How can I help?

VEERAN  
My city and palace have fallen. For years, even through the Galra  
occupation, our Great City has been a symbol and landmark for  
my people. It has been the fortress and headquarters to our  
rebellion operations. We need to take the Great City back if we  
have a hope of continuing our fight.

SHIRO  
I will do what I can.

VEERAN  
You are so earnest when you speak.

SHIRO  
Does that surprise you?

VEERAN  
It is refreshing. And very comforting.

_Shiro smiles. They share another ‘moment’._

_Yet, it is cut short by the entrance of Pidge, Hunk, Lance, and Keith from stage left._

LANCE  
Shiro! We’ve been calling you!  
Something wrong with your comms —

KEITH  
( _moodily _)  
Who is _that_?__

__SHIRO  
The person we’ve been searching for.  
( _beat_ )  
We have a mission, paladins.__

_END SCENE.  
Transition to Scene 2._

  


___________________________

**SCENE TWO**

_Lights up on a busy rebel encampment. A few tents and cargo containers. Veeran’s rebels are busy at various tasks. The team and Prince Veeran huddle around a table covered in maps and schematics._

VEERAN  
That is the best infiltration route. The east side. It is opposite to  
the palace landing pad and is only ever used by gardeners. A  
small team can sneak inside, shut down the Galran generators  
that power their communications systems.

PIDGE  
And then what?

VEERAN  
And then the fight begins. On the ground and in the air. Once my  
pilots can make it to the Royal Hangar, the tide will turn.  
But we will need the Voltron lions to help.

SHIRO  
We’ll have to divide and conquer. ( _beat_ ) Lance, Pidge, and Hunk,  
you’ll go take back the hangar with the rebels. Keith and I will go  
with Prince Veeran to the palace.

HUNK  
This plan seems kinda half-baked, but so are the cookies I left in  
the castle’s kitchen.

_Hold for laughter._

PIDGE  
Shiro, I’ll send a Nongobblertron 7000 with you. It’ll shut down the  
Galra comms systems with a series of binary-tertiary-luminary  
wavelengths.

[Note from Pidge: This is getting ridiculous.]

LANCE  
As self-proclaimed leader of Team B, I think I should have a  
chit-chat with the squad leader. Just so we’re on the same page.

Veeran  
Of course. That would be my second-in-command, Guntara.

_GUNTARA approaches the team. She is a tall, noble pilot. And very out of Lance’s league._

[Note from Lance: _Hey._ ]

GUNTARA  
There is much to discuss, Blue Paladin Lance. If you will come to  
my tent, I can answer all your questions.

[Note from Lance: Heyyyyyyyy.]

LANCE  
Oh, I might keep you up all night...

SHIRO  
Lance.

LANCE  
...With how many questions I’ve got.

_Lance and Guntara exit._

VEERAN  
I suppose that will be all for tonight. With preparations done,  
rest and luck are the only things that may help us tomorrow.

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
I never rest. I only workout and train until I collapse because the  
weight of my mysterious and tragic past keeps me up at night.

[Note from Keith: Not _every_ night.]

VEERAN  
Our training ground is just behind that treeline if you would like.

_Keith exits._

HUNK  
I gotta go check on my cookies.

PIDGE  
And I’ve got some bobbin neezle-hoots to work on back at my station.

[Note from Pidge: I give up.]

_Hunk and Pidge exit._

_Prince Veeran points to the cut on Shiro’s forehead._

VEERAN  
If you would like, I can tend to that.

SHIRO  
Oh, yes, thank you.

_Shiro sits on a supply chest and Prince Veeran treats his wound with a first aid kit._

VEERAN  
I can tell you are a good leader. They respect you.

SHIRO  
I don’t just lead them. They’re my friends.  
My home away from home.

VEERAN  
My father always said ‘Love should be at the core of everything a leader does’.

[Note from Allura: My father said that to me many a time.  
Thank you, Coran.]

SHIRO  
Sounds like a wise man.

VEERAN  
He was. Before the Galra took him from us.

SHIRO  
I’m sorry.

VEERAN  
Thank you. He lived well. ( _beat_ ) I hope to continue his legacy.  
Though I am not sure I’m up to the task.

SHIRO  
( _looking around the camp_ )  
I think you are. Your people follow you. They trust you.

VEERAN  
And do you? Trust me?

SHIRO  
Yes.

_Their hands brush, accidentally._

SHIRO  
If he’s gone, why aren’t you king?

VEERAN  
Here, you can only take the title of king if you have a partner.  
A queen, or another king. Courting other nobles right now seems  
in poor taste to me.

SHIRO  
You have to marry another noble?

VEERAN  
That is tradition.

_Prince Veeran steps away from Shiro to put the first aid kit away; a chasm between them._

_Lance enters. Shiro stands, as if caught._

LANCE  
Alright, I’ve had enough of schematics and gameplans for the day.  
I need some of Hunk’s cookies.

SHIRO  
I expected you to stay with Guntara longer.

LANCE  
I’m playing the long game.  
A woman like her deserves to be _wooed_.

SHIRO  
( _looking at Veeran_ )  
Absolutely.

_Shiro follows Lance to exit. He hesitates and bows._

SHIRO  
Goodnight, your highness.

VEERAN  
Goodnight, Paladin Shiro.

_END SCENE.  
Transition to Scene 3._

___________________________

**SCENE 3**

_Lights up on a palace throne room covered in Galra tech and war supplies. GALRA #1, #2, and #3 move around the room working on sinister things. The GALRA COMMANDER stands center._

COMMANDER  
They said this palace was impossible to take!  
Do you remember that? 

GALRA #1  
Yes, sir.

COMMANDER  
Impossible! Haha! After this, Zarkon will surely promote me  
to admiral. You think?

GALRA #2  
He surely will, sir.

COMMANDER  
The only thing that could possibly stop me now is Voltron!

GALRA #3  
The only thing.

_Fight SFX offstage left. The Galra pause. EXPLOSION SFX! Shiro, Keith, and Prince Veeran enter through a billow of smoke!_

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
You called?

_BIG FIGHT SCENE! Very elaborate choreography! The commander runs away in fear! Our heroes fight together well and the chemistry between Shiro and Prince Veeran is palpable. They anticipate each other’s moves with ease, maneuver around each other like they have trained for years, and do some very cool, totally unnecessary fight tricks._

_Half way through, Keith is knocked out._

[Note from Keith: Unrealistic.]

SHIRO  
Oh no, Keith!

_Shiro and Prince Veeran take down the Galra soldiers one by one. Hold for applause._

_They have another Moment with one another in their post victory high._

VEERAN  
You check on Keith, I will take down the communication system.

_Prince Veeran goes to a CONTROL BOARD and plugs in PIDGE’S DEVICE. Shiro runs to Keith’s side._

SHIRO  
Keith, buddy, are you okay?

_Keith stands._

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
Yeah, bro. Did we do it?

_Lights dim on the control board._

VEERAN  
It is down!

SHIRO  
( _into his helmet_ )  
Lance, Pidge, Hunk; you’re all clear!

_The Blue, Green, and Yellow Lions soar overhead! They fly in formation over the theater a few times over before disappearing over the horizon._

_Prince Veeran, Shiro, and Keith ‘watch’ the siege on the hangar through the downstage ‘windows’, looking out over the audience._

VEERAN  
The battle cruisers are coming.  
Your team will need all the help they can get.

SHIRO  
Will you be alright?

VEERAN  
Yes. My rebels are on their way. The palace is ours. Now go, Shiro.

SHIRO  
I’ll be back soon.

_Shiro is hesitant, but he exits with Keith. Outside Battle SFX rising in the background._

_Prince Veeran takes a COMMS DEVICE from his pocket._

VEERAN  
Rebels, this is Prince Veeran! Squad Red, come in!

REBEL (V.O.)  
We are here, your highness.

VEERAN  
The palace is clear. I repeat. The palace is clear. Come home.

_The Black and Red Lions soar above and Prince Veeran watches them in awe. The Yellow, Green, and Blue Lions join them. They fly high into the sky and form Voltron! A bit of cool Voltron choreo, then Voltron exits sky left._

_Galra Commander enters. Distracted, Prince Veeran doesn’t see the threat sneak up behind him. The Commander puts a MASK to Veeran’s face, it emits a puff of purple gas, and the prince struggles briefly before he falls unconscious and drops his comms device on the floor. The Commander drags Veeran across the room and they exit._

_But the sounds of battle continue over an eerily empty stage. Explosions, voices, fighting, and then, the sound of cheering._

HUNK (V.O.)  
We did it!

LANCE (V.O.)  
They were no match for us!

SHIRO (V.O.)  
Prince Veeran, the Royal Hangar is secure.  
( _beat_ )  
Your highness?  
( _beat_ )  
Veeran, are you there?  
( _beat_ )  
Veeran?

_Blackout.  
END SCENE._

___________________________

**_-INTERMISSION-_ **

___________________________

**SCENE 4**

_Lights up on a Galra hangar, menacing and dark. The Commander stands on stage left with a restrained and kneeling Prince Veeran._

COMMANDER  
The Black Paladin seems to have a soft spot for you.  
Too bad his heart will be his demise.

VEERAN  
You will not sway him to your will. He is stronger than that.

COMMANDER  
Oh?

_The Black Lion flies from the back of the theater and lands stage right. The Commander puts a KNIFE to Veeran’s throat._

COMMANDER  
Perhaps not.

VEERAN  
No, Shiro!

_Shiro jumps down from his lion._

SHIRO  
You promised not to hurt him!

COMMANDER  
And I haven’t, as long as you keep to your end of the bargain!

SHIRO  
You can have the Black Lion.

VEERAN  
No!

[Note from Hunk: Why don’t they ever want the Yellow Lion?]

COMMANDER  
Very well. Step forward, Paladin, and hand over the key.

SHIRO  
Key?

COMMANDER  
Yes, the key to the Black Lion.

SHIRO  
That’s not how it works.

COMMANDER  
What do you mean? Is it a fob?

SHIRO  
No.

COMMANDER  
A handprint?

SHIRO  
No.

COMMANDER  
A retinal scan?

SHIRO  
No.

COMMANDER  
A code?

SHIRO  
No.

COMMANDER  
For Kral Zera’s sake, just give me whatever blasted thing  
I need to fly it!

SHIRO  
Fine.

_Shiro moves forward and into a trap! Electricity SFX! A ring on the ground surrounding Shiro electrifies him (projections), bringing him to his knees. The Commander leaves Veeran’s side for center stage._

COMMANDER  
Bwahahahaha! Now I have the Black Lion and the Black Paladin!

VEERAN  
Shiro!

COMMANDER  
Nothing can stop me!

SHIRO  
( _struggling_ )  
Now, team!

_Pidge and Keith swing out from either side of the stage with their rope/whip-like bayards. Together, they lasso the Commander — he is trapped!_

COMMANDER  
No! I am thwarted!

_Hunk enters and frees Prince Veeran!_

HUNK  
Are you alright, your highness?

VEERAN  
Yes, I am. But, Shiro!

_Prince Veeran runs to Shiro’s side and breaks the seal on the electricity trap. They help one another to their feet._

SHIRO  
(to the Commander)  
You could have never piloted the Black Lion.

COMMANDER  
What?

SHIRO  
The key is a connection. Respect and understanding.  
( _looking at Veeran_ )  
Trust and love.

[Note from Keith: Gag.]

PIDGE  
Your heart is too dark and twisted.

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
You will never understand.

HUNK  
And that’s why you, Zarkon, and the Galra empire will never prevail!

SHIRO  
Lance, would you do the honors?

LANCE (V.O.)  
Comin’ in hot!

_The Blue Lion approaches! Keith and Pidge quickly let go of the Commander and the Blue Lion ‘hits’ him with an ice ray. An ICE CASING rises from the stage and surrounds the Commander up to his neck._

COMMANDER  
No! Blast it!

VEERAN  
You are finished, Commander.  
You will never hurt my people again.

COMMANDER  
Noooooooo!

_The Commander and his ice cage sink into the stage for a dramatic exit. Hold for cheers and applause/the team celebrates with the audience. Hunk hugs Keith and Pidge into his arms._

HUNK  
We won! Now let’s go home and have a celebratory dinner!

LANCE (V.O.)  
Race you there!

_The Blue Lion jets away._

KEITH  
( _moodily_ )  
Hey! That’s cheating!

_Keith, Pidge, and Hunk exit._

_Shiro and Veeran turn to one another. Shiro motions to the Black Lion._

SHIRO  
Would you like a ride back to the palace?

VEERAN  
Could we take the long route?

SHIRO  
I can do that.

_The Black Lion leans down for Shiro and Veeran to board._

_Dim the lights. The Black Lion takes off and flies across the sky in a graceful dance; gentle rolls, spins, and maneuvers. Shiro is showing off his piloting skills. FIREWORKS explode in the sky above! The screen shows a dark, starry sky._

[Note from Lance: Hah, instead of a magic carpet, it’s a flying robot lion. Genius.]

VEERAN (V.O.)  
This is incredible! You get to do this every day?

SHIRO (V.O.)  
Just about.

VEERAN (V.O.)  
It is beautiful.

SHIRO (V.O.)  
Space is even more beautiful.  
( _beat_ )  
Though not as beautiful as you.

[Note from Keith: Oh my god.]

VEERAN (V.O.)  
Shiro, I...oh, there is the palace.

_Transition to Scene 5._

___________________________

**SCENE 5**

_The Black Lion lands stage right. Lights up on the Palace Gardens. Shiro and Veeran exit the lion and move center stage._

_Shiro and Veeran are hesitant to part._

VEERAN  
Thank you for everything you have done for my people.  
We owe you and the paladins a great debt.

SHIRO  
I guess this is goodbye, Prince Veeran.

VEERAN  
Do you have to go?

SHIRO  
The universe needs Voltron.  
( _motions to Black Lion_ )  
My team and I still have a lot of work to do.

VEERAN  
Will I ever see you again, Shiro?

SHIRO  
It may be a long time. But you are part of the Coalition now,  
our fight is your fight.

VEERAN  
I know that I am only one person, but you made me feel like so  
much more. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done.  
I know you must go, but I will continue the work here and  
rid my planet of the Galra Empire. I will come find you.  
When this is all over and the universe is at peace, I will find you  
and we can be together. That is what I want.

SHIRO  
Your people would never approve of an outsider.  
I know you have to marry a royal.

PRINCE VEERAN  
What if I told them I was to wed a hero?

SHIRO  
Veeran, this war could take years. I can’t ask you to wait.

PRINCE VEERAN  
I could wait a millennia and never find anyone like you, Shiro.

SHIRO  
Oh, Veeran — 

_~~They kiss passionately. Fireworks, swell of dramatic stringed instruments.  
Fireworks and kissing cut.  
Fireworks and hug.~~  
THEY KISSED._

VEERAN  
Do not forget me.

SHIRO  
I could never, my prince.  
( _hands Veeran a Coalition communicator_ )  
And if you should need us — me — I will come when you call.

VEERAN  
I hope to not need rescuing for some time.  
Perhaps, just to hear your voice.

SHIRO  
Anytime.

VEERAN  
Now go. Save the universe. We will meet again.

_Shiro kisses the back of Prince Veeran’s hand, he boards the Black Lion, and flies away. Prince Veeran stands center stage, watching him go. He is full of hope. The intrepid, romance music swells, FIREWORKS, and —

Blackout.

_

___________________________

**_\- END OF PLAY-_ **

___________________________

Pitch for the sequel, _THE MARRIAGE OF VOLTRON: a Musical_

As the war wages on and they are lost in their responsibilities, Prince Veeran and Shiro lose touch. But they are still very much in love. With pressure from his court to boost the morale of his people, Prince Veeran agrees to marry a lord of the court’s choosing. Upon hearing of the marriage, Shiro — gentleman that he is — concedes gracefully. But when the team uncovers a dark secret about Veeran’s husband-to-be, they find they must stop the marriage at all costs. 

Note: Find composer and lyricist.

[Note from Shiro: Coran, I need to have a word.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Anniversary to Keith and Shiro!


End file.
